60 Months
by YinYangSisters
Summary: "You've had your story, Aang. You've found out who you are and what you need to do - well, now it's my turn. I have to find out who I am beyond you or saving the world. On my own." When Katara finds she can bloodbend on demand, she sets out to find answers. Zuko tags along too, hoping to find his mother along the way. For five years, they travel together. ZUTARA
1. PROLOGUE

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

* * *

**60 Months**

**PROLOGUE **

.

_"It's time to look inward and start asking yourself the big questions;_

_who are you, and what do _you _want?"_

.

Nothing brings him more satisfaction.

He's seen so many sunsets since the day he was unfrozen, but nothing quite looks like this one. Everything is a blurred vision of reds, oranges, yellows, a few lilacs here and there. Aang breathed in the crisp air, feeling it run through his veins, and it feels different - the good kind. The peace is infectious, sweeping through the atmosphere, through the clouds, into his lungs.

Nothing could make this moment better; and then Katara steps into the balcony with him, proving him wrong with no words at all.

They take long look at each other before they smile and embrace, and he breathes in her hair like he has a million times, feeling her warmth spread through him like the glow of a thousand embers. When he pulls back, sinking into her azure eyes, he can't help but lean in close to her mouth, pushing himself up a little on his toes to reach her, his arms tightening around her back.

She pulls away, arms sliding off of him, this foreign look in her face as she looks away from him.

"No, Aang." she said quietly, looking down. She has this half-pained, half-exhausted look on her face as she pushes a thick strand of curly hair over her shoulder. Her pastel kimono illuminates her coffee coloured skin, the retreating sun stroking half of her face with it's light. She licks her lips, a dark magenta colour, the same lips he kissed recklessly months back.

"I...I don't understand," Aang said with confusion, even though he laughs nervously to cover it up; his grey eyes are confused and a little hurt as she refuses to meet his gaze. "You said after the war. You said...you said you were confused-"

"I still am," she says in a low voice. She sighed, azure eyes lifting to his. "I can't just promise that I'm going to feel a certain way in a certain amount of time-"

"Then why did you?!" Aang said quietly, a little too sharply, his impatience coupled with his frustration and pain. "Katara...none of this means anything if I don't have you. You said on Ember Island that you didn't want a relationship in war, well guess what? I ended it! Mostly, for you! For _us. _I don't understand what it is I have to do in order for you to love me-"

"You can't _buy_ my love, Aang - it isn't something you can force onto its knees like Ozai!" Katara retorted, a somewhat different look in her eyes. He hadn't seen that look before, and whatever it was, he didn't like it - it made her cold and distant. It wasn't the Katara who unfroze him one year ago. "You had Ozai to face and didn't need another reason to put you off - I didn't know what I wanted back then and I still don't, and I you _can't _make me feel bad for that!

"Then why did you feed me those lies?! Just to string me along and motivate me to end that war?!" Aang hissed, his voice growing louder. He felt his eyes dampen and he pressed his lips together to regain control. His words were barely a whisper. "Don't you understand? I _love y_ou. I've _always _loved you-"

"And what about _me_?!" Katara exploded. She could feel it in her heart, in her soul, as her fingers twitched at their own accord. She paced her breathing in desperation, willing herself not to loose control, not now. She closed her eyes, pulling herself together. "You've had your story Aang. You found out who you are and what you need to do - well, now it's my turn. I have to find out who I am beyond you or saving the world. On my own."

He gaped at her in horror as he pieced the words together, but she left, not wanting to hear what he had to say (or scream) on the matter - she had already made her choice. She passed her group of laughing friends as she entered the main room again, the light hearted atmosphere dampening as they watched her walk past briskly, Aang rushing to the edge of the balcony that joined to the room, his face crumpled as he watched her back retreat for the door.

"You're leaving me?!" Aang murmured, but it was enough to make Katara pause as she reached out for the handle, closing her eyes. He had this lump in his throat that sounded too prominent as he spoke, but he didn't care as walked forward a little, shaking his head in disbelief, in denial.

"After everything we've been through, after all these months of running and training and fighting, you're just deciding to up and leave? Didn't this past year mean anything to you?! Katara...I don't even _know _how many times we talked about what we would do after the war - and now you're just walking away, not wanting to truly _live_, for the _first _time in your life-?!"

"Don't you _dare _question the things that I have done for you, the things I've made myself do in order to protect you." Katara said in a low, solid voice as she whirled around. Azure eyes that were once a pastel blue colour were now so dark, so foreign to him - her voice was firmer, harsher. Her eyes flickered to her frozen friends who watched in total silence, and Katara felt a surge of shame and embarrassment. "I don't want to talk about this anymore-"

"I don't care!" Aang cried, grey eyes glistening as he strode right to her, looking her right in the eyes so that she couldn't avoid him or push the matter away. His voice sounded so weak and strangled, and already, Katara started hating herself for doing that to him. "I don't care if anyone hears. I don't care if they laugh at me. I love you, and I'm not letting you leave for the peace we've worked so hard for-"

"Leave?!" Sokka repeated, but was totally ignored by the pair. The group were still huddled around the table holding his forgotten painting, shell-shocked as they witnessed the argument unfold in front of them. They'd never heard Aang raise his voice before - let alone Katara sound so cold. Even Iroh was silent, golden eyes surveying the two across the room.

"Look," Katara sighed deeply, taking the pink flower from her hair, pressing her tears back into her eyes with bending, forcing herself to look at him. "I don't expect you to understand. I don't even expect you to like it. I just need you to respect that it's my time to find my way, now. Alone."

She took his hand and placed the flower there, curling his fingers over the petals before releasing him, turning for the door.

The rest don't know whether to look away in horror or at them in total shock. Toph gaped, Suki gasped, Sokka blinked, Iroh was silent, and even Mai watched in total surprise. Zuko felt his stomach drop, because he knows that look in her eyes. He knows what it means, for he's said and done the _exact same things_. He's tense, and Mai glances at him, frowning as his eyes fixate on the waterbender in worry.

Zuko knows _exactly _what Katara means, for he's been there - which is the very reason why he is silently supporting her.

Katara makes it a point not to apologize - she refuses to apologizes for making a decision with her heart for once, as she reaches for the door handle again. She knows that once she walks out of this tea shop, that's it. She doesn't know where she will go, she won't know how long for, or whether she can ever return. All she knows is that she has to leave. It is the only option. She _has _to leave.

All Katara knows is that she has to leave before she accidently kills the people she loves.

"_No_!" Aang cries, wrapping his arms around her tightly, pinning her own arms to her sides. It takes everything in her not to cry as she feel him sniff into her back, unable to hold in the tears that spill out of his eyes. "I think...I think I know why - just please, _please _don't run away from me..."

The room was so silent they could hear Aang crying against her back - the group of friends didn't know whether to leave or convince Katara to stay, didn't know whether to pry Aang off of her and demand an explanation from her or continue to pretend they didn't exist - all they knew was that they couldn't keep their eyes off of them. Zuko held onto his breath tightly.

"No, you don't..." Katara whispered, shaking her head, struggling against him weakly. She made her voice sound firmer, like a consoling mother as she wiggled a little, trying to pry him off of her in a way that wouldn't upset him more. "Aang, let go of me."

Zuko rose, alarming everyone, tentatively approaching the Avatar as he clung onto the waterbender with all his might, like a child. He laid a hand on his back, his voice soothing, consoling, understanding. "Aang...Aang, you have to let her go; this isn't your choice-"

"I know you're scared and insecure," Aang said quietly, breathing still erratic from his crying. "That I'm the Avatar now, that I won't have time for you, that I have the Avatar State and all that - but you'll always have me. I'll always be yours. Don't be angry or afraid now that you have to share me with the world, now that it's not just you and me anymore. I'll always love you, take care of you, give you everything you could ever want, just don't go. Don't ruin the life we could have together-"

"DO _NOT _TELL ME HOW TO FEEL!"

They all leaped back with a cry, Zuko jumping away and pinning his back against the wall in terror as Aang went flying past him, slamming into the lip of the table Sokka was once painting at. They watched in total horror as his small body convulsed quickly as he rose a centermeter off the ground, frozen there, unable to even blink. Grey eyes were petrified as they fight to skitter about in complete fear, in the loss of control he had in his body.

Katara still faced the door, panting in rage, fists balled up, once innocent face twisted in a snarl.

"Have you ever thought that maybe I didn't _want _that life?! That maybe this isn't about _you_ for once?!" Katara growled, tears of rage pricking at her eyes. "Don't tell me that I _ruin_your life just because I want to do something for _myself_. The truth is, Aang, I don't fit into your perfect little world of purity anymore - so don't you _dare _think for a second that me giving up everything I have _ever _loved is simply because I feel _insecure _about the _prospect _of sharing _you_-"

"KATARA!" Iroh roared above her barks. "RELEASE HIM!"

Her heart sank at the general's words, because this time, she didn't even _realize _she was doing it - only once Katara whirled around did Aang's body fall back onto the wooden floor with a loud bang and clatter of his limbs. Sokka and Toph rushed to the spluttering air nomad as Katara clamped a hand over her mouth in disgust, her azure eyes so wide Zuko thought they might burst out as they brimmed with tears of shame and complete fear.

"Wh-What did...what did you _do_?!" Mai hissed in terror, her eyes darting between the half conscious airbender, groaning on the floor as Sokka shook him lightly, Toph propping his head up onto his lap, and the quivering waterbender.

Katara stumbled back shakily, her back hitting the door behind her - she glanced at her hands, and then back at Aang. Tears slipped from her eyes like falling stars as they all stared at her in fear, in shock, in horror. Looking at Aang, her friend, her brother, laying on the floor like that with only a weak breath passing through his lungs, she knew she had to leave. Soon. Now.

She'd promised she wouldn't apologize for leaving - but Katara found herself breaking a lot of promises these days.

"I'm sorry." she mouthed, unable to forge the sound as she opened the door and fled.

Zuko shivered a little as he looked outside at the setting sun, just peaking out of the horizon before bidding its final farewell for the day. Everyone in that room knew what Katara had just done. They all knew what Katara should not have been able to do in even _daylight_, but somehow did anyway. The young firebender's fixated on the place where she'd once stood.

"Uncle," Zuko murmured after a while. "Is it even a full moon tonight?"

Iroh frowned, pausing with worry. "No, my nephew," he replied quietly, laying a hand on the Avatar's forehead. "It isn't."

* * *

She didn't think twice - once the stars came out, Katara shoved her clothes into her bag.

She didn't even bother to fold them or double check she had everything before she closed her bedroom door quietly, grabbing a few buns from the kitchen before making her way downstairs to the main tea shop. Katara wished she would have chosen to stay somewhere else, but her friends insisted - but she hadn't planned on running away tonight. However, after earlier that day, she couldn't trust herself to stay any longer.

She paused at the last table, which was by the door, before removing her mother's necklace and placing it carefully on the long, mahogany desk. She didn't deserve to keep such a sacred heirloom, and she knew that. She hoped that maybe, one day, she could earn it back - but until then, it should lie on the neck of a worthy daughter.

She drew in a breath as she opened the door, remembering the faces of her friends in her mind one last time.

"Wait up, peasant," someone whispered from the bottom of the staircase. And she knew exactly who it was without having to turn, though she did anyway. Zuko walked over to her, bag over his shoulder, grinning. "Can't leave without your favorite firebender, now can you?"

She glared at his grin. "Go back to bed," she hissed, turning, reaching for the door again.

"You know that's not gonna happen," Zuko said plainly, quietly, as it was the dead of night. "I'm going with you whether you like it or not."

"No you're not," Katara said firmly. "I don't care if my brother sent you to take care of me. There's a reason I'm going alone, Zuko. You saw what I did to Aang today - and that was when I didn't even know I was doing it. Are you really sure you want to take your chances, travelling with me at _night_?"

"Sokka didn't ask anything of me," Zuko assured, golden eyes alive against the darkness, so sincere as he turned to a more serious note, sighing. "I need to find my mother, Katara. I've been planning on searching for her for a while now, but with the war ending...I have to know where she is, if she's alive. I thought that out of everyone, you'd respect that the most - just like I'm the only one who can really respect you having to go alone for a while."

She watched him, a frown still playing at her features. She knew he wasn't lying, but the prospect of travelling with the former Prince eased her slightly - Zuko, oddly enough, was sort of an ideal partner right now. He wouldn't judge her for her monstrous abilities, as he'd done monstrous things himself. He didn't need looking after or protecting. He knew his way around the world well, having chased them for so long.

And, most importantly, he didn't criticize her for her decisions - still, she remained wary.

"What about the Fire Nation? It can't rule itself." Katara pointed out, looking up at him with concern. "You can't just up and leave your country like that."

"For the next few years, there's nothing I can really do," Zuko said after a pause, wondering if he was able to reveal such information and then not caring. "Right now, before I can make any real changes, the Fire Nation has to that it can maintain its place in the world without harming anything or committing genocide. This is mostly through trades and noble parties, things my Uncle is taking charge of."

Zuko paused. "They basically suspended me for a few years, so no one's going to come looking for me - not even my Uncle," Zuko paused, wondering whether he should be embarrassed or not for saying it. "He says it's like carefully prepping my throne like having to prep jasmine tea before ingesting it."

Katara laughed quietly, an infectious laugh that made him almost start laughing too. "That sounds like your Uncle, alright," she said quietly, though her smile eventually fell. She didn't feel satisfied with his answer, but that wasn't the worst worry on her mind. "But...this may not be just for a few years, you know. If I can't control my bloodbending, Zuko...I doubt I'll ever let myself return."

They were quiet for a moment, before he answered. "Then when I come back, I'll tell everyone you miss them."

After a long pause, Katara gave in and they left - Zuko paused before shutting the door to the tea shop, glancing at the table and seeing Katara's mother's necklace. He looked over his shoulder, seeing she was a good few paces away before gently folding the ribbon around the pendant, slipping it into his pocket - she deserved her mother's token, despite the fact that she herself didn't think so.

It was the second time he had 'stolen' her necklace; but this time, it was for a good reason, so he didn't feel guilty.

He hurried to join her side, and on the twelfth day of summer, Zuko and Katara left their lives behind.

* * *

**So I guess you could say this is a total re-write of the last episode, which is fine by me, because if any of you know me at all, you'll know I'm a die-hard Zutarian, so the balcony scene was very upsetting/annoying/forced for me. This is just the Prologue - each chapter will include what happens within 6 months. You'll understand when updates get more frequent, I promise. **

**This is another fic I'm continuing from my Zutara Drabble Series, Frozen Ember (Chapter 16, Run). However, this one will specifically have only 11 chapters. Although, I think it will be fun to write, since I know I have a target/cut off point. **

**- Yin**


	2. 6 Months

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

* * *

**6 Months **

For the first six months, they decide to lay low.

Word got out very quickly about the departure of the soon-to-be Fire Lord Zuko and Master Katara, although their friends were tactful enough to add the words 'hiatus' and 'separate missions', just to make it seem like Katara wasn't abandoning them, which she pretty much was, if it wasn't for Zuko tagging along. This meant hoods up twenty-four-seven, no checking into motels Zuko _definitely _had the money for, and no causing unnecessary ruckus, for they were both rather easy to define in public.

Katara's head flicked to the side where she felt the scurry of a very quiet animal somewhere deeper within the cave they had found. She felt the vessel of blood, running along the stone before she reached out with her hand, grabbing it from Agni knows how many yards away and pulling. Needless to say, surprise was an understatement of a feeling as an armadillo-rat came soaring from the darkness of the large cave, shooting straight into the fire Zuko had lit a while ago. He blinked as he watched Katara hold the now dead animal there in the fire with a raised hand, her face looking uncomfortable and apologetic.

Her eyes flickered to his shocked features, his porcelain skin illuminated by the fire, even his scar looking shocked as the medium sized animal rotated with the flick of Katara's fingers. Glimmering blue met gold, but her eyes looked back to the roasting animal once more.

"Dinner." Katara explained stiffly, not making eye contact with the seventeen year old.

Zuko watched her, saying nothing; him and his uncle used to hunt for meals all the time, but he had never quite seen hunting like that before. His eyes skittered over to the night sky, the crescent moon covered by protective clouds, and then back to the waterbender opposite him, on the other side of the fire. Her caramel skin glowed with the fire's light, as well as her electric blue eyes that shone. She brought her knees up, draping an arm around them as she watched the fire, focusing on her emotions carefully, just like she did every day since the incident with Aang.

"You haven't slept in a while," Zuko commented as he noted her dark circles, somehow managing to make her blue eyes even brighter. She looked up at him, wishing she could lie to him, but she knew that that would only endanger them both as she sighed, running a hand through her dark, loose curls.

"I'm too afraid to," Katara admitted rather evenly, though it was coupled with a sigh as she looked away, wondering how to explain such a fear to him. "I'm afraid I'll bloodbend you in my sleep by accident, you know, if I have a bad dream or something. It happened once with a maid who came into my room back in Ba Sing Se; I didn't hurt her too much, but I still gave her all the money I had so she wouldn't say anything."

Zuko didn't say anything as Katara pulled upon the cooked animal and cut it in half with a cock of her wrist, wrapping it in a large leaf and passing it to Zuko. He took it from her, murmuring his thanks as he looked down at the browned animal, the fur and shell having been skinned by her hand at some point to reveal the brown meat within. He looked over at her as she ate quietly, long, dark lashes sweeping up and down.

"Don't be afraid of hurting me," Zuko said into the crackling frame, the quiet cave, his voice reaching her ears in the most assuring way. "If worse comes to worse and you freeze me or something-"

"That's not worse, that's _good_, Zuko," Katara cut off, her eyes stern with fear. "Worse would be crushing an organ of yours or throwing your body against a tree or wall. Worse would be you never stirring in the morning and me waking up to find that I'd killed one of my closest friends-"

"Look, that's not gonna happen," Zuko said firmly, his golden eyes intense as they drew her in, and Katara wondered if he possessed a bending of his own that made her so vulnerable to his gaze. "I'll just scream and wake you up; I know you, Katara. You wouldn't do that."

"Of course I wouldn't _choose _to do something like that!" she snapped, he fatigue getting to her, making her pinch the bridge of her nose and forced herself to calm down, afraid of the repercussions. "I can't trust myself, Zuko; that's why I needed to do this _alone, _away from anyone I could hurt-"

"Then I'll stay up," Zuko finished for her. He took off his black tunic and tossed it to her, parting the fire so that it wouldn't burn when it crossed through it. Katara caught it with a confused expression, full mauve lips parted. "We'll do shifts; you stay up one night, I'll stay up one night. That way, neither of us gets hurt because the other will be awake to stop you, and this way we're both equally fatigued. That is, until you feel confident enough to sleep at the same time."

"But-" Katara started.

"This traveling business won't work if you're too exhausted to go anywhere," Zuko said, shuffling back so that his back was propped up against the cave wall. "Go to sleep. I'll wake you up tomorrow and we'll move to the next village."

She kept looking at him in surprise, like he was crazy, and Zuko smirked at that look.

"Go on!" He ushered.

"Thanks..." Katara said quietly, laying down upon the rough ground, draping Zuko's tunic over her. It smelt thickly of him; of burnt wood and ash, spices and heat, of musk and passion. Katara tried her best to not let the scent soothe her, but it did, her eyes fluttering closed peacefully, carefully, longingly for the first time in Agni knows how long, since she found out about her monstrous abilities.

* * *

Once they were three months in to this, Zuko started to get a little fidgety.

He kept thinking about how they were going to do this, who they were going to track down first and why, where that would lead them, whether the gossip would have died down by then in order to start searching. He shuffled against the grass for a while before finally sitting up, unable to sleep. It was Katara's turn to stay up, and he got up hurriedly, thinking about their options and what they were going to do next as he traipsed through the thick woodland area in search of her, for she couldn't be far.

"Katara," he called, the monkey-owls replying to him in the dead of night. Something told him she was nearby so he continued talking, sifting through trees as he looked for caramel skin, bright blue eyes, long dark curls, a petite and agile body. "I think we should start on your search first; maybe we can find that woman who taught you bloodbending in the first place. She's the only one you talked about that makes the most sense in trying to find."

Zuko spluttered, on a leaf that made it's way into his mouth, angrily. "Where are you?!"

He could hear her irritated calls from afar and followed her voice, hearing the crash of a waterfall, realizing that she must have been practicing waterbending as he continued. "Then I thought that we could ask around some merchants and see if they know anything about my mother; she probably moved around a lot, so I think it will take a while to track her. In the meantime, we can look for that bloodbending woman-"

"...OVER!" Katara shouted, but Zuko couldn't make out what she was saying through the crash of the water.

"What?" Zuko called back, approaching.

"...COME..!" He could only hear parts of her sentences, and it started to irritate him, his brow creasing.

He grumbled under his breath as he threaded through trees thick and thin, wondering why she was even out here anyway, because someone could have come and assaulted him or taken their things when he was sleeping. Zuko pushed his messy hair out of his eyes, practically growling by the time he reached the water's edge, ready to scold this waterbender for acting so stupidly and barking orders at him like he was a-

"Katara, why are you even-"

She was there, in the small waterfall, long dark hair curling around her naked body as she turned and screamed at the sight of him, putting up a wall of water between her and the firebender. Zuko gaped and screamed in retaliation, turning his back on her with his hands plastered over his eyes as he bowed his head, his face tomato red from embarrassment because he'd just caught a flash of Katara _naked. _He could hear her swearing and screaming as he groaned in horror, wondering how this traveling could possibly continue after crossing a line like this.

He could hear her march onto the soft grass again but kept his hands glued over his eyes.

"I TOLD YOU _DON'T _COME OVER!" Katara roared, holding a towel tightly around her body as she shoved him roughly and painfully with the other. Zuko's turned in the direction her voice came from, his lips (being the only part his face that wasn't covered) in a snarl.

"I couldn't hear you over the water!" Zuko shouted back at her. "I'm sorry, okay-?!"

"No, it's not okay!" Katara screamed, thwacking at his hands. "And get your damn hands off your face! I'm not naked anymore! Why would I stand here and scream at you when I'm naked?!"

"I don't know, I don't know!" Zuko shouted back at her, still keeping his hands against his eyes for good measure, glad that it was hiding most of his red face as he shouted at her without being able to look at her. "Why are you even bathing at this hour?!"

"Because there was a river and you were asleep and I haven't bathed properly in days and there was nothing to do and...and..." Katara fumbled, groaning as she plastered a hand on her forehead, clutching at her towel as her eyes scrunched up in embarrassment. "Agni, the first guy who sees me naked and it's _Zuko_-"

"Hey!" Zuko exclaimed, his mouth scowling. "Is that supposed to be a insult?!"

"Well, it's not a compliment!"

Despite all the arguing and Katara's hitting and Zuko's shouting and the crashing waterfall behind them barely drowning them out, when Zuko awoke the next morning to see her cook breakfast, they both took one long look at each other before bursting into hysterical laughter, falling back into their routine that consisted of mild arguing sleeping, moving, moving, moving and very intense arguing and just a few too many dashes of laughter.

* * *

"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

She asks the question like she's asking him to pass her some leaves to put in a stew as she leans her face on her hand, sitting cross legged in some other natural area they had moved to, still avoiding the public eye. Zuko watched her, her curly hair pulled back in a high ponytail, revealing her striking face. Without the hair loopies, the Water Tribe clothing, the betrothal necklace, and the plain, dark clothes she wore, Zuko almost thought she was a stranger whenever he would glance at her from the corner of his eye.

"I'm just not." Zuko said honestly, shrugging as he beat his wet clothes on a rock.

"Yeah, I know, but _why_?" Katara pressed, bright blue eyes looking straight at him, making the young firebender feel uncomfortable. "I could kill you at any second without meaning to. I could kill so many people without meaning to, in the most disgusting way, and you'd have to watch. I'm a mon-"

"You're not a monster," Zuko cut off sharply, looking at her sternly. "I know monsters. You're not a monster."

"You can't be stupid enough to believe that-"

"Well, I do. So maybe I am."

* * *

When Zuko heard that festival nearby, he didn't even have to look at her to know she'd love to attend.

They can't remember what village they're so close to, but what they do know is that it's in the Earth Kingdom; lanterns are hung up, fresh food cooked in stalls on the street, people are laughing and dancing and singing, and he knows the waterbender loves things like that, loves things that promote an unnecessary amount of happiness. There are masks, too; people in crazy costumes that could shroud them if they chose to go. When Zuko and asks her if she wants to attend, he feels a little bad at her sullen smile as she shakes her head.

"No," Katara declines gently, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "It's not safe. If I got too excited or angry or something, I don't know...it'd be too risky."

It's probably the first time in Zuko's life when he genuinely feels bad for someone else, which he thought was silly, because it wasn't like not attending this festival would be the end of her or anything like that; he just knew that she enjoyed them a lot, for some reason.

He absolutely despised events like these, but just looking at the way she glances in the general direction of the ridiculously loud street-party-festival thing, a part of him felt obliged to take her. But right now, such things were out of reach for her, and there was nothing he could do but light a fire between them and pass her his tunic, like he did every other day when it was his shift. Katara takes it from him and pulls it over her small shoulders, blinking down into her lap.

"What if I never learn how to control it?" Katara asks him, but not looking at him. "What if I end up hurting people I don't mean to hurt for the rest of my life? What if I have to be alone forever?"

Zuko doesn't know what to say as the wind howls between them, because he's asking the same questions.

* * *

At least three times a night, when it's her turn to sleep, she wakes up.

And every time, she rolls over, looking for that familiar scar, for that lean body that sits nearby, for those sleepy golden eyes that find hers eventually. Every time, Zuko nods at her, telling her everything's fine, she's done nothing wrong, she didn't hurt him, she didn't hurt anyone, she can go back to sleep, because he's here, awake, hating every moment of it, but awake all the same, watching over her and her bloodbending she cannot yet control.

She searches for that nod, for that tiny movement of his head, for that reassurance that nothing bad has happened.

Yet.

Because sometimes she wakes up to Zuko's screaming and thrashing, his body trembling and not in his control as she holds onto him in her dreams, letting go only when her eyelids flutter open; blue, horrified eyes, hearing him gasp as oxygen fills his lungs once more. Every time she does it, she apologizes and apologizes until words turn into sobs themselves, drilling into her own mind that she is deadly, that she is hurting innocent people, that she should never have agreed to letting him come with her.

And sometimes, Zuko puts his arm around her whilst she cries herself silly with apology, because he knows what it's like to feel like a monster.

And other times he leaves her alone, because Katara hates herself too much to let him touch her.

* * *

As the first six months draws to an end and they plan their next move, Katara tries to figure out whether he's the most incredible person she's ever met for enduring all of this, or absolutely positively completely and totally insane for agreeing to into it.

But as Zuko gently teases her, makes fun out of her, gives her his tunic every night, makes her feel like she's not a total tyrant when she's crying by putting his arm around her, she still cannot make up her mind. Every so often, he's playful, so unafraid of her as he blows a tiny flame in her face or takes something she needs, like a book or map or quill, holding it high above his head because she's too short to reach, laughing at how angry she gets, so totally fearless of the anger that could potentially kill him in less than a second.

And every morning after she's accidently taken the blood in his body in her dreams, taken that freedom that every person on earth was given as a birthright, he greets her good morning in that rough yet smooth voice of his like she's done nothing wrong, like she's just Katara, like she isn't some beast. On mornings like this, she cannot understand the lack of anger or fear within him she stares at him in confusion, in worry, in guilt, in fear of killing him one day by accident.

And then Zuko pokes his tongue out at her in response, smirking, and goes back to whatever he was doing.

And Katara finally comes to realize he's not crazy.

He's just her best friend.

* * *

**I really want to emphasize the friendship side of Zutara in this chapter. Relationship stuff aside, I think that they'd seriously be the best of friends, because I don't think that anyone really understands each other as well as these two do, canon or not.  
**

**Thanks for feedback, everybody! You're all blowing my mind, because I usually only get like 4 reviews per chapter or something...:)**

**- Yin**


	3. 12 Months

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

* * *

**12 Months **

All she says is five words to the village leader, and it's like an unspoken language Zuko doesn't understand.

"I need to see her." Katara said quietly, but the sternness is thick and rigid in her voice.

This village leader just nods; no questions, no words, no worried looks, because apparently, just the look in Katara's eyes tells him everything. And if anyone is capable of controlling this women, this fiend, it's Katara, Zuko understands, as the pair are lead away into a secluded room somewhere in the middle of the small Fire Nation village, their hoods up, their wits about them, Zuko more than anyone because he's heard enough about this woman, the first bloodbender; the person that makes his best friend think herself to be a tyrant, a villain, a monster that cries herself to sleep almost every day.

When this 'Hama' walks into the room (four walls of steel, one table and three chairs, not even a light), her heavily aged expression is blank as she is lead in by four men, chains clinking together from her cuffed wrists and ankles. The moment her dark blue eyes settle on Katara's form, a smile spreads on her features; chilling, merciless as Zuko lights a fire in the palm of his hand when the door closes, the absence of light casting an unwanted shadow on everyone's features.

The old women is pushed into the chair opposite the pair as the guards retreat to all four corners so that the four chains are loose and hanging as they are stretched across the room, to be pulled easily if Hama were to cross one finger out of line.

"Ridiculous, isn't it, my star pupil?" Hama croaks out, her lips thin and dry, but her smile so sly, so eager, drilling into Katara's electric blue eyes with determination as the flame in Zuko's hand practically shivers in his palm. "It's midday and not even a waning moon tonight, yet they imprison me like this, as if tonight is our peak-"

"I'm the one who's going to ask questions," Katara cuts off. Zuko doesn't have to glance at her to know that she is angry, no matter how much she tries to control it. And so is he, even more so than Katara. "And you open your mouth only to answer them."

Hama leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs, eyes flickering to Zuko. "And if I don't, your pretty little firebending boyfriend is going to burn me, I presu-?"

Katara's forearms line up, elbow to wrist, elbow wrist, and they repel each other slowly; it's a simple, gentle, almost dainty looking move, but then Hama's body jerks and she's sitting upright, legs uncrossing in an instant, the smile fading from her lips, her entire face, as she convulses under Katara's grip with a straight back, straight arms that are pinned to her sides, fear running through every wrinkle and crevice of her body as her brain comprehends what is happening.

"Sit up." Katara commands finally, making her point, and then releasing her.

Hama's body then sags against the table as she pants, breathing again, her eyes darting to Katara in surprise and fear for a long, long second, before finally erupting into a smile that makes Zuko's insides swirl, his spine tingle, even the core of his flame flutter for a second.

"My, my..." Hama breathed, sitting back up as her grey hair fell back into her face, long and thin and wispy. Her smile was filled with such pride, such awe and Katara felt as though she could vomit at the very premise of it. "You truly are a prodigy, child. No full moon, not even the time of the night, but in the middle of the day, when we are weakest...you are revolutionary - do you understand that?"

"I told you - _I _ask the questions," Katara said firmly, feeling Zuko nudge against her elbow for support, and it helped her continue. "Why is this happening to me? You sound as though you can still only bloodbend on the full moons, that this hasn't happened to you over time - so why has it happened to me? Why am I able to bloodbend on demand?"

Hama paused for a second, thinking carefully. "There are some benders in this world who are more in tune with their element than others, who do not look upon it as a part of them, but a comfort, as their very soul, connecting with it in a strange and intimate way; like the Avatar, or that tyrant Ozai," the old woman said, a small smile still playing at her lips, continuing.

"I suppose you just happen to be one of those people, Katara; first it was with water, your foundation, and now with blood, your higher element. It's interesting, because it makes me wonder what kind of traumatic things you've had to have lived through in order to pull at your bloodbending from within yourself to the surface without even realizing-"

"But how do I _stop _this?" Katara asked, leaning forward as she tried to sound a lot less desperate than she actually was. Zuko could see her fists curled in her lap, the twinkling of her fearful azure eyes as she looked down at the table. "It used to be like this with waterbending; I'd get angry, upset, afraid, and the water around me would react - that's how I unfroze Aang from the iceberg, because of a fight with my brother."

"And how is it that you overcame that?" Hama asked, spelling it out for her on purpose as she grinned.

Katara was breathless as she replied. "I practiced," she breathed, looking down at her lap. "I practiced and I practiced and I practiced until it _became _me, until I never ever lost control of water again without doing it on purpose."

"Then you have answered your own question by coming here, my prodigy," Hama said slowly. "Back when I founded the technique, I practiced on elephant-rats. Now you just need to find something on a much larger scale."

"Like _what?_" Zuko snapped, golden eyes glaring. "There's no way she can practice on people, nobody would willingly agree to it-"

"So think on your feet," Hama smiled, looking to Katara once more. "You always have your own body, if worse comes to worse. Or even the body of your little lover here. Or maybe you want to get yourself into some messy situations with a few criminals here and there, bending the blood of people who truly deserve it. But that's for you to figure out, my dear; who knows what you will become in a year, in two, in ten."

* * *

And that last sentence that Hama utters is what is ringing through Katara's head that a few nights later as she looks down at her own hands, listening to Zuko's steady breathing as he sleeps. It's the only thing that's keeping her sane as she realizes that this isn't a choice, isn't a maybe or another time; if she does not do this, she is lethal. If she does not do this, she could become a murderer very, very soon. And not only that, her first victim could be the firebender that sleeps on the other side of room, in this dingy motel.

Katara places her forearm in front of her, on her lap, raising her other hand over it.

She holds the blood, tighter, tighter, seeing how tight she has to hold before she bleeds-

It's her scream that makes Zuko wake with a jolt, flinging the covers off of him at the sound of that noise that erupts in her throat for a fragment of a second. He stumbles as he leaps from his mattress in a sleepy daze, but then he sees her across the room clutching her bloody arm that is dripping on the floor, so crimson and real and vivid against the murky carpet that Zuko's voice fades in his throat as he practically bounds over to her, taking off his sleeveless shirt to wrap it around the gash on her forearm hard, maker her whimper as she leans forward, her head against his chest as they look down at her dark red limb.

"What the fuck did you do?" Zuko breathes heavily, sound barely making its way into his words as he grips his shirt tightly to her arm, feeling her head roll around his firm, muscled chest in pain, before she looks over at the plant in the corner of the room, reaching out with her uninjured arm and curling her fingers, making it vanish and rush to her in the form of water.

She pulls away weakly from Zuko, and he only lets her when he registers the water in her other hand; he peels off his blood soaked shirt from her arm, watching the blood spill out from the deep gash in flows of an almost black-looking red, but then Katara encases her entire arm in water and sighs in relief as she felt it knit together her skin, her flesh, her veins, and she laughs nervously up at Zuko's livid and shocked face, his golden eyes alight with his inner fire, his grip on her shoulders hard from worry, his breath still heavy like he'd run a full mile.

"What the fuck did you do to yourself?" Zuko asked her again, properly, sound in his voice this time. The question comes out rough and even a little cold, spitting out the words even though the grip on her smooth, caramel shoulders slacken as he watches the skin on her arm come back together.

"If I squeeze for longer than seven seconds..." Katara trails off, trying to describe the euphoria. She realizes how close she is to him and leans back a little, looking up at his chiseled features as she tried to find the words. "Well, let me put it this way - it's enough."

Zuko blinks down at her, the ends of her long, dark curls sticky with her blood as she pushes it over her shoulder, the water glimmering on her forearm being the only form of dim light in the blackened room, for the drapes are closed, the moon waning behind the clouds. He doesn't know whether to scream at her, grab her by the shoulders and shake her til she's screaming back or thank Agni then and there, a full-fledged prayer, even though he'd given up on the gods long ago. He keeps watching her, eyes a little wide, pale pink lips a little parted, his heart still hammering in his chest.

She continues. "And if I twist - well, I say twist, but it's not exactly like that," Katara tries to explain, her eyes wandering as her brain searches for the words. "If I twist, then the bone snaps. Agni, if I'd twisted harder, I'd need a lot more water-"

"Don't you ever fucking do that again," Zuko spat into her face, furious, gripping the backs of her shoulders, making her wince because he was pulling her hair, too. She hadn't seen that anger in him for so long, and brought back old memories as he growled at her. "You could have _died_, you absolute fucking idiot. At least wait until I wake up so I can make sure you don't do something this stupid, for Agni's sake-"

"I'm sorry," Katara says, and she means it as she looks down at her almost healed arm. wondering how many more times she'd have to apologize to this boy throughout their lives. "I know I should have waited for you. But I just wanted to see what happens in the light of the moon, see if it'd be different - and Agni, it was..."

Zuko decides not to say anything, but he doesn't go back to sleep.

* * *

One source said Gaoling.

Another said Ember Islands.

Another after that said Kioshi Island.

So when the fourth source they asked tells them that he suspects the ex-Fire Lady Ursa to be in the middle ring of Ba Sing Se, it takes everything in Zuko not to set everything there on fire. He rants and raves in their new motel, fire erupting from his nostrils, orange, vivid flames that Katara quite likes to look at, but she knows that this isn't the time to voice something like that. He's becoming desperate, eyes burning as he blinks back tears, as he curses under his breath, as he allows the waterbender to hug him fiercely and promise, swear, curse that one day, _they will find her._

Zuko only nods, wordless, acting as though this embrace is totally for her benefit until his nose dips down to press into the top of her head.

Despite the intense screaming and the chaste tears and the weak embraces, they start at Gaoling.

* * *

He doesn't like this - Zuko does not like this one bit.

It's a type of hate that boils up inside of him for a long time, growing deeper and darker and stronger, every single time he looks at her. The scars are slowly but very, very surely starting to pile up on her body. They are sprinkled here and there, inflicted by her own hand, and it's not at a number that suggests one should be concerned, but Zuko knows that it will be very soon. He knows what the skin feels like, watching her trace the gashes she did to herself when she thinks he isn't looking. The taught skin, ridges and bumps and marred flesh that will never be the same ever again.

Zuko knows what it feels like to have a scar, knows what it feels like to trace it absent-mindedly, do your best to cover it, fantasize about a world where you don't have even a single one, where your skin is still smooth and pristine and flawless and perfect. But it's the fact that she _actually used to be like __that _which angers Zuko the most, makes him realize he can't stand by and watch her scar herself anymore, because there's this fear (coupled with his hatred) in the pit of his stomach that is terrified that one day, _she will become as scarred as him. _

"I don't want you to do that anymore," Zuko blurts out in the middle of dinner, like the gashes and breaks and fractures she inflicts are on his skin and not hers. But he feels responsible for her skin, for that body of hers, simply because she was his greatest friend. His eyes fall to the newest scar, curling from her shoulder blade to the front of her body, and she doesn't need to look at it to know he's looking at it. "Use me instead."

She practically laughs out the reply through a snort. "What?"

"I'm serious," Zuko said, not responding to her small smile like he usually did, always did. He puts down his chopsticks, his food, stands up in front of her and the candle he lit between them, looking down at her with his warm, sandy eyes, his expression totally rigid as he waits for that feeling to overtake him. "You want to practice? Use my body instead."

She puts down her chopsticks, looks down at her lap. "No."

"Please," he begs, but it sounds fierce and rough with his desperation. "I'm afraid you're gonna kill yourself or something, and I hate watching you when you do that, sitting by and listening to you scream-"

"_No!__"_ Katara barks, blue eyes fierce as she glares up at him. "I will never _ever _do that if I can control it-"

"I don't care!" Zuko admits with a snap, his voice growing louder with anger. He walks forward, debating whether to attack her just so she can practice on him, but his hands are too weak to touch her, too dependent on her to lift so much as a finger. He practically offers his body out to her, tall and well built, the blood circulating through him evenly, taunting her. "Throw me across the room, snap my bones, tear open my skin; _just stop making me watch you do it to yourself_-"_  
_

"You know, if you were someone else, I'd consider it," Katara said honestly as she stood up, dark, long, shiny curls cascading over her shoulder as she growls up in defiance. "But never you, Zuko. You already risked your life for me once. I refuse to let you do it again."

"But-"

"I was already scarred, on the inside," Katara barks out, even though she's looking away, but her voice grew quieter as she continued, as she thought back to the necklace she left behind nine months ago. "What does it matter if I'm scarred on the outside, too?"

And that's when Zuko realizes she was never smooth and pristine and flawless and perfect to begin with; this entire time, she was just as scarred as he was.

He just couldn't see it.

He decides that that fact alone makes her the greatest person he has ever met.

* * *

They decide to sleep in the woods this time, just to avoid consistency, just to avoid leaving a trail.

But they inevitably regret it as they huddle up together in a tiny, dingy, damp little cave they found when the rain pelted too hard for Katara to hold over their heads as she slept. She pulled some thread from an old shirt, fashioning a needle out ice and sewed the edges of their shared towel and only blanket together, just so it's big enough to drape over both of them and keep their bodies tight together. Katara said it was because sharing body heat was the best solution, but Zuko thought it was because she wanted to steal his fire breath, and he was right.

The second he blew some yellow and orange flames gently into his palm, the warmth licking at his skin, she practically pushed him out the way just to soak up the fire, the warmth, the light, and Zuko laughed loudly at this, echoing through the cave until her laughter joined him.

Needless to say, she awoke with her head on his shoulder, his head on hers, even though she was the one who was supposed to stay awake that night.

But he must have stayed awake in her place, because he held a small flame in his palm, heating her during the worst night's sleep she'd ever had.

The sleepy smile on her face is what gets Zuko through his fatigue the following day.

* * *

Katara wonders why his usual grumpiness isn't quadrupled when he comes up with a fever.

Personally, she was loving this; his pink cheeks, blurred and woozy golden eyes, weak body that couldn't possibly fight her even in the slightest. Katara laughs as she hauls him into the room she just rented, setting him down on the bed as she looks him up and down. The rain was probably the culprit; seeping through his clothes, sticking to his taut, swollen muscles, threatening to extinguish that fire within him he always talked about. Bending the water from his clothes wouldn't take out the filth and the mud, and so Katara sighs as she pulls his tunic off of him like he's her child.

"S-Stop it..." Zuko fights weakly, his body lolling to the side as she pulls his black over-tunic off, the very tunic he gave her every night. She started on his baggy maroon shirt next, lifting it off of his head, throwing it away, revealing his muscled abdomen and strong chest that she's actually very impressed by; but she focuses again, rummaging through their things to find him some clothes. "I'm cold and I'm wet and I want my clothes, K-Katara..."

"You'll get some clean, dry clothes in a second," Katara assures in her gentle voice, not bothering to hide her smirk as she watches him, confused and weak and groaning. She reaches for his belt, unbuckling it and hooking her thumbs on the inside, either side of his waist-

"_Woah_!" Zuko suddenly shouts and groans, trying to leap away but just falling back on the bed, the surprise slow as it reaches his golden, feverish eyes. "Were you just about to _dishonour _me, Katara-?!"

"No, I-"

"_Rape is a two way thing_!" the almost eighteen year old shouts, and Katara threw her head back and laughed hysterically for good five minutes, engraving the phrases into her mind to tell him later when he was healthy, before wiping the tears from her eyes and continuing to undress the protesting firebender. _  
_

However, as soon as she pulled on the clean, dry shirt over his head, Zuko fell fast asleep.

Katara laughed to herself as she washed his clothes for him whilst he slept, healing him as fast as she could after that, eager to tell him of the things he said when he was riddled with fever, longing to see his reactions on his soon-to-be healthy face.

* * *

As the second set of six months ends, Zuko finds it hard to believe it's been a year.

On her sixteenth birthday, he considers giving back her mother's necklace, wanting her to realize how worthy she is, because a year ago, she didn't believe it. But as Zuko watches Katara inhale and exhale as she pulls about the blood in her leg, trying to figure out just how much she needs to pull before it hurts, he knows that she is still not ready, because she still doesn't believe it. Sometimes, she still takes a hold of him whilst she sleeps, but she wakes up and releases him much faster than before; Zuko called it progress, Katara called it well timed insomnia.

Nevertheless, he practically tosses a mango at her on her birthday casually, trying not to let his smile slip as he watches her face light up, because they _never _had the money for mangoes (or, rather, Katara would refuse to splurge money on unnecessary things).

And when his birthday rolls around, she makes him his favourite stew.

And Zuko thinks that's all there is, that that _is _his present for the day, until she approaches him later that night, pushing a piece of parchment towards him. Zuko flips it over with a raised brow but it fades, along with his entire expression as he gapes. In coal, she's drawn a women; a portrait of her face, long, flowing black hair, a gently smiling mouth, the shading and smudging making it look as if the women is practically alive and ready to jump out at Zuko. It's only when he notes the yellow-ish eyes does he realize that it's mango juice, meaning Katara's been working on this since her own birthday.

When he looks up at her, silent, her azure eyes are gleaming, looking down at the picture with him.

"This is how I imagine your mother to look like in my head..." the waterbender says quietly. Her eyes flickered up to him. "Am I right, at all?"

"Y-Yeah..." Zuko admits, golden eyes finding her electric blue ones again. "You draw?"

Katara shrugged. "Not so much anymore since I left my tribe - just that one."

Zuko stares down at the incredible picture, inwardly cursing this girl, because there's no way he can top something this talented, this personal, this genuine, this faultless, this beautiful. But the mild loathing passes, because Zuko has a feeling that they'll be competing for the best birthday present for a long, long time, until either or both of them are whisked away to the Spirit World one day.

.

_Some friendships are so strong, they can even transcend lifetimes._

_._

* * *

**This chapter was a little long, I apologize. Thank you for the wonderful feedback everybody - I hope you're all enjoying this as much as I am writing this. I think for every year that passes, I'll have a quote at the bottom, like the prologue...or at the top? I don't know, I say a lot of things...**

**- Yin**


	4. 18 Months

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

* * *

**18 Months **

When she wakes up woozy, unable to stand, to walk, to even dress herself, Zuko realizes instantly that she's bloodbended on her own brain without telling him.

They'd talked about it before, trying to predict what would happen if she were to ever be crazy enough to do such a thing; but Zuko realizes that she probably did reach that point of vulnerability last night whilst he was sleeping, probably did reach that point of utter self loathing, because he's been there before, many, many times. In a way, it's sort of like she's hysterically drunk; unable to talk properly or clearly, stumble around the cheap motel room unsteadily, moods swinging from laughing and jumping and screaming to the world that he's her best friend, and then plummet down to an all time low that Zuko remembers all too well.

But it's different this time, watching it happen to someone you care about instead of in the mirror, as Zuko bounds across the room when he hears the thud of her knees hitting the thin, carpeted floor beneath her. Her head is bent over, dark, long curls a mess as they fall to gravity, her own fingers threaded through into her scalp as Katara sobs uncontrollably, loudly, hysterically, making Zuko curse as he scoops her up off of the floor, wondering what the hell she meshed about in that brain of hers, praying to Agni that this wasn't permanent as he sets her on one of the mattresses, kneels in front of her as he watches her cry.

"Hey, hey," Zuko breathes carefully, quietly, gently pulling her wrists away from her head, untangling her fingers that are caught around her own hair. He doesn't know what to do, because Zuko isn't exactly the comforting type, as Katara allows him to hold her wrists in front of her, her sobbing still wild and uncontrollable as her brain fights with the imbalance she had caused with her bending. "Why're you crying, huh? Come on, stop it-"

"Do you remember when you took me...to...you took me to kill my m-mother's killer," Katara hiccuped between sobs, brimming, shiny blue eyes looking straight at him, straight into him, making his knees quiver. "D-Do you remember that?"

"Well,...yeah, I gue-"

"Do you remember what I said to him? To-To-To my big brother?" Katara asked. Her voice was less than a whisper, her face looking so frightened, so ashamed as the tears overwhelmed her again, flying down her face faster than usual, mauve lips trembling as she looked down in horror at the hands Zuko held out in front of her. "I told him...he didn't love her like I did. My _brother_...her first born, her _son_! He'd always give me his parka a-and...he told me I looked just like her, he said to Toph he didn't have to remember our mother because _he had_ _me-" _

She started to wail like a child, and Zuko could only blink with his shocked eyes as they softened at her, watching her back quiver as she hunched over, crying between the wrists Zuko was still holding, the wrists he couldn't bring himself to let go of-

"How could I say that to him?" Katara asked Zuko, tears streaked across her face as she leaned closer, honestly expecting an answer from him. "After everything he d-did for me...how could I say that? D-...Do you understand how I could possibly say that? Because _I can't_-"

"Katara, stop it..." Zuko says slowly, not knowing what to do as she starts crying again.

"Because I'm disgusting, that's why..." Katara continued, her words slurred and jolting from all her crying as she sniffed and shook her head, a dark look creeping into her eyes. "Because I'm a monster, and I know I am. Because I don't deserve a brother like S-Sokka, not anymore. N-Not after what I have become-"

"Look, you need to stop this," Zuko cut off sharply, gripping her shoulders firmly as he held her body straight and still, stopping her from lolling against the bed in a haze. "You're being ridiculous because you're not thinking straight. Agni, you sound as wasted as the guys I sailed with ages ago...look, wait here, I'm gonna get you some water-"

He cuts himself off, pausing as he thinks about what she says, replying quietly with sincerity. "Besides, Katara; it was different for you. Sokka wasn't the one your mother died for. Sokka didn't have to live with that guilt, not the way you did. And Sokka in no way had the means or the power to track that man down and kill him like you almost did-"

"And I don't deserve _you_," Katara murmured, totally ignoring what he had said in her dazed manner, reaching out and clutching the front of his shirt as she looked up at him with sincerity even in her haphazard and sickened state. "You're t-too good to me, Zuko. No one is m-more proud to call you their best friend than I am - because you are a man that _worked _for his honour, _fought _through all that ridiculous shit that was thrown at you to be here, now. To be _good_, to be my _friend_; y-you found your light through the darkness..."

Zuko couldn't do anything but stare at her, letting her words soak in, letting his eyes burn _because no one had ever said that to him before_. Because he thought if anyone was more undeserving out of the two of them, it was definitely him - and it would always be him. But the fact that she didn't think the same way made his crippled little heart swell up, because he knew that if she'd done the same horrific things to him as he'd done to her in the past, he sure as hell could never say things like this.

Katara's last words were mere mumbles as she looked down at her hands again.

"...Which is more than I can say for myself."

* * *

When Katara wakes up the next morning with her brain pounding in punishment, she decides never to bloodbend on her brain again.

She learned enough, anyway.

She groans at the hollow ache in her head, rolling straight out of her mattress, eyes searching for Zuko, expecting him to be absolutely furious with her, realizing that he definitely knew that she lied to him about bloodbending again, hurting herself (though, in a different way this time) again. She tried to sit up so she could find him and chant apologies, but her head was heavy like a rock, the room spinning as her mind protested against the sudden movement, the sudden cognitive alertness that was struggling to cope again-

"Woah, easy," Katara heard his deep, raspy voice seep through her, a strong, large hand at her back and behind her knees lifting her up like a feather and putting her back on her mattress again. Her eyes were blurred, but she could make out warm, golden eyes, a blur of soft ebony hair, the comforting dark pinks of his scar. "I think you've had enough of an adventure after climbing on my back and pretending I was Appa-"

"I _what_-?!" Katara spluttered as she tried to sit up quickly, groaning as she got half way and collapsed back down from the pain again. Zuko chuckled quietly as he watched her face screw up in embarrassment, laying a cold rag over her head. "What other stupid things did I say...or do?"

"A _lot_," Zuko assured with a smirk. His mind drifted back to when the captain of his ship had once told him that _drunken words are sober thoughts_. And then he looked down at the groaning Katara, remembering what she had said to him. "But there were also some not-so-stupid things you said."

"Really?" Katara asked in disbelief, not even opening her eyes.

Zuko smiled into his lap as her words from the previous day rang through his head. "Really."

* * *

Sometimes, she takes a moment out of worrying about accidentally killing people to worry about the friends she left behind.

Katara thinks about what they're doing sometimes, thinks about whether they could bare to look at her if they ever saw her again, thinks about whether they hate her or tried to forget about her or cry at the thought of her, and she doesn't know which scenario is worse. Zuko knows exactly when she feels this way, because she reaches up to touch that place above her collar bone, where the pendant of her mother's necklace would lie, and it takes everything in him to not just give it back to her there and then, for her temporary relief. But there's a time and place that he knows will present itself one day, and so Zuko refrains.

Nevertheless, to make her feel better, he sends a messenger hawk to his uncle back in the Fire Nation, which he knows will be passed on to their friends; no details about where they are, how they are, what they're doing, whether they've made progress, how things are at home, because Katara just cannot bear it. Zuko sends only five words, just to ease her worry, even if only a little.

_We're together, and we're safe. _

And when Iroh replies, a seven word answer, Zuko can practically see her face light up as she cranes her neck over his shoulder, re-reading the words over and over, even though it hardly means anything. And Zuko realizes how glad he is that is uncle has some tact, knows not to listen to their friends and question them, knows not to make her feel worse with extra, unnecessary information that would most likely break her heart even more than it already was. Zuko is glad that even without seeing each other for over a year, the bond with his uncle will never slacken.

_Good - keep staying together, keep staying safe. _

* * *

"Maybe you should try mediating with me at sunrise," Zuko offered casually. "You never know - it may help in controlling your bloodbending."

Thinking back to when he pitched the idea last night, Zuko wished he could travel back in time just to challenge himself to an Agni Kai so that he would shut the hell up. In the morning, Katara is cranky and groaning, half-lidded azure eyes cursing at every little thing as she walks into a wall by accident, trips over clothes she didn't put away the day before, mumbling something about that 'stupid fucking firebender that came up with this stupid fucking idea' every time Zuko comes within half a yard of her. Just by doing this, it aggravates Zuko as well, ruining his morning before it has barely started.

But three mugs of coffee and a very long bathe later and Katara is bright and alert and almost _enjoying _this sunrise, and that just irritates Zuko even more. It takes what seems like forever for her to settle down, and when he gives up and begins meditating on his own, she turns it into a game for herself, seeing how many times she has to poke him in the chest, the stomach, the cheek, pull his ear, natter on about something, pull his hair, climb on his back like Momo, blow air in his face, sit across his lap and pretend she's dead, and repeating his name over and over and over until the firebender looses it - which was actually very soon. _  
_

Zuko cries out in a merciless growl, fire erupting from his nostrils as he glared at her with golden eyes that could slice through metal, panting with fury and irritation as Katara shut up instantly, doing her absolute best not to snicker.

"Shut the fuck up and _leave me alone, _Katara!" Zuko barked in her face viciously, resuming his mediating position.

But the thing he hates the most is how the second that she starts to giggle uncontrollably at how angry he gets, Zuko just cannot help the smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips as he listens to her infectious laughter sinking into him and threatening to make him laugh with her.

* * *

Zuko has his head in his hands, silent, and it's sign for Katara, telling her that he is very, very, _very _close to giving up.

After traipsing around to every little village and town, following lead after lead, there was still no sign of Zuko's mother; she'd taken up many names after her banishment, practically eradicating herself off of the face of the planet, but something in Zuko's gut is telling him that she is there, that she is practically waiting for him to find her, that she's dying to fall into his arms just as much as he is. Zuko says nothing at all as he sits on the mattress of their new motel, elbows balancing on his knees as his face covers his hands, and Katara can practically feel his eyes pricking with tears of frustration as she sits behind him.

Katara won't lie; sometimes, she's jealous of Zuko, because he has a mother on this earth and she doesn't. But then she sees him like this, sees him chase and chase and chase all around the world to fill this void in his heart, in his life, and Katara thinks that maybe she's the lucky one here, because she knows exactly where her mother is; under a pile of thick snow and pebbles two hundred yards west of their tribe back in the South Pole.

But Katara's jealousy becomes short lived as she comes up behind him and winds her slender, caramel arms around his chest, under his arms, her cheek pressed against his scarred temple as she whispers the words into his ear again and again and again, so sternly, with such dedication and determination in her voice that Zuko believes her, hope rekindling in the heart of his inner fire.

_We will find her, we will find her, I swear to Agni, Zuko,_ we will find her.

* * *

The next time Katara tries out meditation at sunrise, she's not the one with the problem.

The waterbender was actually concentrating, focusing hard on the advice Zuko gave her, keeping her body exactly the way he had positioned it for her, breathing slowly and deeply and calmly. Since she was only in her wrappings, much like Zuko was only in his maroon trousers, she could feel the sunlight creep up her back slowly, to the nape of her neck, sifting through her thick, dark, long curls that fluttered slightly in the breeze that twirled around the silent pair every once in a while. She focused on this calmness she felt, hoping to draw upon it if her bloodbending were to ever get out of control again.

Though that was starting to happen less and less now, it was still an ever apparent occurence, motivating Katara to keep breathing, keep concentrating, for if she didn't, the consequences could be catastrophic-

"Can you stop that?"

Zuko's voice slices through the wonderful aura she had created for herself, his voice spitting out the words like venom, like she had actually done something wrong. Katara scowled at his anger, because he was spiking her temper too, not even opening her eyes as she ground out a sharp reply at the firebender beside her.

"I'm not doing anything-"

"You're breathing like a damn rhino-bear," Zuko growled, his brow furrowed with his irritation. "How am I supposed to concentrate with you practically airbending with your nostrils and sighing every five seconds like you've run a hundred miles-"

"Oh, I'm sorry your highness, would you rather me stop breathing so I don't distract you?!"

"If you could, that'd be great-"

"Get over yourself! If I'm that much of a bother, go meditate somewhere else!"

"_I'm _the one who even introduced you to meditating, _I'm _the one that has been meditating at dawn my whole life, so why should_ I _be the one to move when _you're _the reason I'm even having a problem with this-"

"Because _you're _the one who's being a total fucking jackass-"

And before they know it, the two don't really meditate anymore at all; they just happened to argue with each other sitting cross legged with their eyes closed and their fists touching each other, barking out remarks at the other until the sunrise has passed and the time to meditate has long since gone. Regardless, like every argument they have every other waking hour, the two are pinching food off of each other's plates at breakfast, sparring at lunchtime between another argument, and laughing over dinner as they think about the old times, the simple times, when their arguments actually meant something and they'd actually been stupid enough to hold a grudge over each other.

But those times were long gone, they both know, as they lean against the tiny balcony and watch the stars as they bicker about who has more of a right to use the bathroom first the next morning.

* * *

At first, Zuko thinks he's just hearing things.

But he comes to realize that the faint, sweet humming he can hear late at night as either one of them prepares for bed (depending on who stays up that night to keep watch over Katara) isn't a hallucination at all; it's her, singing softly as she washes her hair or pulls the water from their freshly washed clothes or cuts up the vegetables and meat for whatever meal they prepare haphazardly at night. It's strange, hearing her sing, because he can't understand how she goes from barking out a string of curse words at him in the morning to gently humming out the melodies of songs that make his eyes grow heavy and his insides mush up together.

"You sing?" Zuko asked from across their room, folding their clothes that she'd dried.

Katara snorted. "It's hardly singing, Zuko; it's humming-"

"That's just quiet singing," Zuko corrected, mulling over the information he knew about her in his head. He glances at her, long, dark lashes fluttering sleepily as she draws water out of their washed clothes, full mauve lips parted as a string of notes escape them quietly, softly. "So you can draw, and you can sing...any other artistic talents I should know about?"

Katara shrugged with a grin. "I can't dance, if that's what you're implying-"

"Oh, I know you can't dance," Zuko assured with a smirk, his voice deep and raspy and soft as he mixed it with a hint of arrogance and derision on purpose, because he knew that would get her temper spiking in no time at all. "I've seen you hop around like a rab-aroo when you hear a tsungi horn in the market place - that is, if that's what you refer to as 'dancing'-"

He can only laugh loudly as she throws one of her shirts at him with an angered and embarrassed growl, marveling in the pink that taints her face gently as she huffs, returning back to drying their laundry, muttering a string of curse words at the firebender under her breath yet again.

* * *

**I hope you like/understand my idea on brainbending; I just thought of it one day (thinking about the thing Katara did in Lake Laogai to Jet) and wondered why they didn't pursue it on Legend of Korra - but hey, it might come up next season. I only touched upon the subject, and have got a lot of other creative ways in which Katara could use the technique, but they're quite dark - do you think I should just go ahead and do it anyway? **

**- Yin**

**P.S., I don't count that whole Kataang 'dance' thing in Book 3 an actual dance; in my opinion, that was just acrobatics. Besides, who knows more about traditional dancing than the former Prince of the Fire Nation, right? ;) (Hint, maybe Zuko'll share that knowledge later on...)**


	5. 24 Months

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

* * *

**24 Months **

Katara finds it hard to look at Zuko.

It's not only because of the disgusting bloodbending she forces upon him every so often (though that definitely makes up a good deal of her shame); it is the explosion of a scar in the middle of his chest. She can't help but stare at it when he meditates in the morning topless, subconsciously memorizing every ridge of the puckered, dark pink tones of his skin, every little line that makes up the star-like shape, every taut little speck of it that is shaming her with its existence, because every time she sees it, it's like it's screaming out to her that _this is all your fault_.

Zuko catches her staring a lot of the time, watches how her azure eyes darken and flicker away, embarrassed and upset that she had bestowed such a permanent and horrific mark on him. But he catches her gaze with his glimmering golden eyes eventually, silently screaming at her that _this mark is an honour, _and _I'd do it again_ and _I am proud of this mark, I will always be proud of this mark._

And slowly, but surely, Katara learns to accept it.

She learns to accept the fact that the scar on his chest, much like the scar on his face, is just another part of him, just another part of Zuko that looks after her, argues with her, laughs with her, annoys her, spars with her, screams at her when he's furious. It's a difficult transition, because some days are harder to forgive herself on than others, but when she gets there, to that point of acceptance and understanding, she wonders why the hell it took her so long, because during this entire time of self loathing, she was missing out.

She was missing out on the defined and prominent abs underneath the scar, that Zuko perfected through hours of training, each outline of hardened and protruding muscle catching the sunlight in the most perfect way as a few beads of sweat slide down there when he practices his firebending. She was missing out on the thick and strong plains of his chest, his skin perfectly milky and flawless, the bulk and swell of his large, broad shoulders, the muscled clenching of his back when he moves with stealth, the strength and swell of his large arms that flex every time he juts out his body in a firebending position.

But his perfectly crafted and perfected body is not even the main problem here. She doesn't quite know when, but at some point, Zuko went from this charming, rough-around-the-edges looking boy into a very tall and very strongly built young man. Even though his thick ebony hair is still matted and messy, his jaw is stronger, straighter, usually lined with thin, dark stubble that Katara finds extremely alluring in the most inappropriate way. His voice manages to stay gentle despite depleting heavily in pitch, and when he smiles at her, or laughs at her with his perfectly straight, white teeth, something in Katara's stomach twists uncomfortably.

It's like every move he makes, he does on purpose, just to get a reaction from her; it was absolutely ridiculous and inconvenient and downright sad, because all Zuko has to do is look at her right in the center of her eye, say her name quietly, his molten golden eyes shining like the sun itself and suddenly she can't form a sentence properly and a nervous laughter is the only thing her brain can manage. She practically sighs in dread every time he gets lazy and ventures out from the bathroom in just his towel, thick black hair slick and pulled back against his scalp from the wetness of the water that drips from it, revealing his rather beautiful face underneath, full, pale pink lips stretched in a cheeky smirk.

"Mind drying my hair for me, Sweetness?" Zuko mocked, flashing a grin at her, and it's one of those grins that makes Katara's hands dampen and her throat form a lump as she rolled her eyes and approached him. He closed his eyes as she pulled the water away from his hair, and Agni, even his damn _scar _looks so sensual and familiar and dangerous, and Tui knows she's always had a soft spot for danger.

"Thanks!" Zuko calls over his shoulder as he retreats back to the bathroom, and Katara can't help but let her eyes travel down to expanse of his muscled back, coated in milky, clean skin that's making her swear under her breath from the irritation of it all.

And now, ironically, Katara finds it extremely hard to look away from Zuko.

* * *

For a while, they really thought she was improving.

It had been weeks since Katara had bloodbended Zuko in her sleep, and they started to get to the point where they hoped that she was getting better and better, hoped that soon enough, they'd be able to sleep at the same time at night and not have one of them be sleep deprived throughout the next day anymore. Zuko could see that happiness creep across her face, ghost over her features as she smiled, biting her lip in glee, because there was finally some notable progress that she could cling onto when she felt rough and hopeless and deflated, which was a lot, since this all started.

But that's why it hurt all the more when she awoke to him thrashing and screaming that night.

Zuko could only describe the feeling as an uncontrollable heat, like a higher force that gripped onto every fiber of your soul, took his inner fire away for a few seconds and played with it like a child; and sometimes, Zuko is honestly afraid that he is going to die. But then she wakes up, hearing his screaming, his body is given back to him, and he crawls over to her and holds her hand as she hiccups apologies through the sobs that burst out of her throat in little jolts. That's what usually happens when Katara bloodbends him by accident; but tonight is different. Tonight, Katara is livid with herself.

She's swears crudely as she wrenches herself out of his grip and jumps off of her mattress, panting from her sobbing, her dark, long curls sticking to her face that is damp with tears, azure eyes glistening down at him in rage. She shakes her head furiously as she backs away when Zuko tries to approach her, tries to prove to her that she isn't the tyrant she thinks she is, but tonight, it is simply not enough. Tonight, she will not allow herself to even look at him properly because she knows she does not deserve it. It takes everything in Katara to look him in the eye and shout the words at him.

"I can't do this anymore!" Katara choked out, shaking her head as her face crumpled, her fingers threading through her knotted, dark hair. "I can't live every day petrified of killing you, Zuko! I was right from the beggining, I was so stupid to let you come with me - I should've done this alone-"

"Stop it," Zuko said firmly, approaching her again, but she shoved him away painfully, pointing to their motel room door.

"I want you to get out!" Katara cried, her brow still scrunched in sorrow as she looked away, tears slipping from her electric blue eyes. "I want you to take your things and leave me right now! I want you to walk through that door and never look at me again, not until I learn to control my own fucking actions! I'm serious, Zuko! _Get out-_!"

"I'm not going anywhere," Zuko said in a dark, quiet voice, and she could hear him gritting his teeth. "I'm not going to leave you alone, whether you like it or not. You can scream at me all you want, but I will _not _leave-"

"_Please,_" Katara begged through a whisper, desperate for him to comply, for him to save himself, because she was on the brink of picking up his large body with her horrific powers and make him walk out himself, right now, just so she could be sure she he'd be alright, because he'd be without her. Her voice depleted to less than a whisper, her shoulders sagging from fatigue and tiredness and desperation as she looked at him right in the eye. "Please go. Please don't make me watch you die at my own hand. Please don't make me hate myself even more. Please, Zuko..."

When he hugs her, he realizes it's probably the first time they've ever hugged like this since after returning from almost killing Yon Rha as he pulls her wrists to his chest, enveloping her petite, trembling body in his arms so that she cannot move, so that she can do nothing but cry against him in apology in the middle of the night like this. Zuko swallows when the tips of his fingers brush over the thick, marred skin of her scars on her lower back, on her hips, curling to the front of her bare stomach, since she was only in her wrappings. And when Katara notes the explosion of a scar in the center of his chest, reminded of all that he had already sacrificed for her, she only cries harder, wondering why Agni had let her live this long.

"I'm sorry," Zuko mumbled quietly into her hair, and he honestly meant it. He knew how much she wanted him to go, how afraid she was to hurt him, and her tears on his chest almost convinced him to go for a split second, for her sake, but he just couldn't. "But I won't leave you. I will never leave you. This is how you and me work; you take care of me, I take care of you. We have each other's backs. We don't let each other down. We protect each other. Even if it means we hurt each other."

"I'm sorry," Katara started to chant through quiet wails, muffled by his chest as she shook her head in dismay, in shame, in apology. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry Zuko, I'm sorry..."

Zuko sighed quietly, because he knew she meant it, because to him, this was the worst part. Watching her hate herself was the worst part. Watching her unravel like a little child in his hands like he too had done in the past, made something in his inner fire flicker and stir and double over, because she was the strong one. She was the one who could withstand absolutely anything - apart from her own hatred. And sadly, that was the hand Agni had dealt her with.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Zuko..."

"I know," he said, over and over again, like her. "I know, I know."

* * *

Zuko is honestly torn.

The scars are thick all over her body, leaving hardly any space of clear, caramel skin anywhere, apart from her face. They wind around her, the marred skin taut and puckered, darkened beyond repair, even though Zuko knew that if she'd truly tried at the time, she'd probably have been able to heal them to a scar-less state. But she didn't, and now practically every inch of her body has a winding gash here and there, curling around her once perfect honey-coloured skin. They're on her ankles, her calves, her thighs, her stomach, her hips, her arms, her neck, her back, you name it, and there are scars there.

And Zuko doesn't know whether to feel horrible at what she was forced to do to herself, scarring herself on every inch of her body like this; because for every single mark, she has learnt something. How to twist muscle, the flesh, the skin, the bone, the tendons, the veins, the arteries, how to manipulate it and pull against it and push against it until it folded and maneuvered exactly the way she wanted to, exactly the way a twitch of her fingers would command.

Because now, even though she still had a way to go in perfecting this bloodbending art, she so, so close to _controlling herself_ and ridding herself of the demon that scratched away at her heart until it was a squirting pump of nothing. Zuko doesn't know whether to shake his head, ashamed at what he let her do to herself or practically rise up from his pride, because his best friend has gone where no other has gone before and revolutionized an art form that she was forced into merely three years ago.

Through literal blood, sweat and tears, she earned this, just like him. Just like he had to with his own scar.

And Zuko knew he would never be truly alone ever again.

So as Katara throws some curls over her shoulder and pulls a silly, immature face, he decides to let his guilt whither away and let that pride take over.

* * *

It isn't until after she turns seventeen does Zuko start to wonder.

He starts to wonder when she crossed that line from a round-faced, big blue eyed girl with a fiery heart and an even fiery temper, into this exquisitely beautiful young woman that captivates him and pretty much everyone else she walks past without so much as blinking. He remembers her from before, from chasing her and her friends around the world; he remembers this small, slightly too-thin girl that was not to be underestimated, her features so soft and innocent and pure, like every emotion that crossed her pretty face was genuine and readable.

But now, it's like she's a totally different person; no hair loopies, no braid, no thin little body, no wide-eyed expression when something catches her off guard (which doesn't really happen anymore), for these things were long gone. Instead, that girl Katara was replaced with this sensual and sultry young lady, curves filling out swiftly and alarmingly, features poised and _beautiful _now, like every bat of her eyelashes, every flicker of her azure eyes, every small parting of her full, mauve lips mean something more than what it seems, like she's got some trick up her sleeve, like she's got you right where she wants you, which Zuko _knows _is true.

It was like every line and crevice and tone on her body was specifically crafted to look irresistible.

And he finds that her countless scars that lay on every limb of her are a part of this.

And on days when Zuko can't distract himself from her fast enough, he flushes (only a little), gulping when she asks him to knot up her breast wrappings, pulling away her long, thick, dark and shiny curls over her shoulder, revealing the smooth nape of her neck, even though there are scars that are scattered there haphazardly, it still looks beautiful and perfect to him. Katara chuckles when she hears him curse in frustration (a warm and inviting tone) because she thinks it's because he can't tie a decent knot, when really, it's because his fingers are shaking too hard to actually do anything.

When he finishes, she looks up at him from behind with a perfectly arched brow raised, the top of her head barely reaching his Adam's apple; Zuko swallows, because he can smell her clean and sweet addictive scent, that scent he has become so accustomed to. Her voice is smooth, even and fluid like the element she bends. "Come on, Sparky! It's gotta be tighter than that! Unless you want my underwear to unravel during training or something!"

_Fuck - this girl is gonna be the death of me..._ Zuko swears in his head viciously as he exhales sharply.

Biting down hard on his lips at her words, at the very _thought, _Zuko is pulling the knot free and starting again with even shakier hands.

* * *

"Okay," Zuko starts in deep voice, approaching Katara, who stood outside the block of motel rooms with their things piled up next to her, azure eyes expectant and analytic. "I've got some good news and some bad news."

"Start with the bad." Katara says slowly, folding her arms she looks up at him, frowning at the slightly worried look on his face. She watches Zuko run his hand through his thick, ebony hair as he sighs deeply.

"Well," Zuko says slowly, golden eyes rolling away from her electric blue ones. "I _kind of _told the motel owner we're married-"

"You _what-?!_"

"But wait," Zuko interrupted, holding her shoulders firmly so that she didn't waterbend him into a stupor. Katara just glared up at him, jaw clenched as she half snarled, caramel skin aglow in the light of the sunset, though her vicious expression fell at his words. "Because we're a 'couple' we get a fifty per cent discount _and _a bed-"

"A _bed_?!" Katara cried in excitement, a smile erupting onto her features, electric blue eyes suddenly aglow with delight as she grabbed his forearms, practically giddy as she gleamed up at him. "For Agni's sake, why didn't you say sooner?! I haven't slept in a bed for _so long_! Do all motels offer this?! We should've lied and said we were married sooner! Hell, I would've _actually _married you if I'd have known I'd get to sleep on a _bed_-"

"It's just a bed..." Zuko shrugged, watching her gather half their things in her small yet strong arms and practically kick the door open to their motel room, her eyes in awe and wonder at the large, dull and dingy queen-sized bed that sat in the middle of the equally dull and dingy room, hardly anything grande or worth a fuss. "I thought the discount would be of more significance. I mean, I know it's been a while since we slept on something other than the ground or mattresses, but-"

"No, Zuko, you don't understand - you've been in beds your whole life!" Katara explained, sitting on the end of the large bed and running her hands through the soft sheets. "Back in the tribes, we didn't have beds. I didn't even know what a bed _was _until I left with Aang and Sokka! I've only slept in a bed three times; in Omashu, in Ba Sing Se and in Hama's inn. But those three times were _incredible!_"

Zuko can't help but smile at her throughout that night, watch her as she sits upon the middle of the bed like she's sitting on a throne, and it's the first time he's actually appreciating that part of his life that he lucked out on; he had enough food, water, shelter, money to make the entire world go round. And a strange part of Zuko hopes that this entire travelling business will finally make him understand that, because although living and dining in riches isn't of any equivalence to a loving, happy family, it is still a privilege - another thing the waterbender has taught him. Another debt he has to repay one day.

By the times the night rolls around and Katara practically cacoons herself in the thick duvet, even though the winter here in the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom were nothing compared to the ones back in the South Pole. She popped open a bright blue eye to watch the young firebender make a nest of their towels and clothing and jumpers to sleep in on the floor beside the bed, ready to keep watch over Katara that night, since it was his shift. Katara squinted, brows furrowing in confusion at him.

"What're you doing?" Katara questioned.

Zuko glanced up at her, snorting when he saw her wrapped up in the duvet. "Getting ready to watch your bloodbending ass all night-"

"No, I mean, why aren't you sleeping with me?" Katara asked, sitting up in a slight huff.

Zuko knew it was ridiculous and silly and borderline immature, but he couldn't stop the heat rising to his cheeks from the way she said it, because Zuko was a young man, and he couldn't always control certain thoughts that would pop up into his head, especially when Katara phrased her sentences in such a careless way, sitting up there only in her wrappings. He cleared his throat, eyes shifting away as he replied, afraid that they would slip to her taut stomach, her narrow waist, her broad hips, her lean legs, the swell of her breasts that strained against her chest wrappings.

"No, it's fine," Zuko assured, coughing in between his words as he thought furiously about something else. "You never get to sleep in beds, and we're only here for a couple nights anyway before we leave for the Islands again, so you can have it all to yourself, I honestly don't mind. Besides, I'd probably just fall asleep anyway-"

"You're being ridiculous!" Katara huffed, folding her arms over her protruding chest, making Zuko look away and cough again. "Agni, Zuko, I'm like half your size! And this bed could easily fit, like, five people! And I know better than anyone that sleeping on the floor is murder on your back! Stop being so immature and sleep with me! It's not like we're gonna have sex or anything-"

"Katara..." Zuko warned, scratching his head as he shook it.

"Stop being so _childish_!" Katara cried, throwing a pillow at his head, to which he caught with one hand. She growled, rolling her eyes as she knelt on the thick mattress of the bed, scoffing in annoyance. "I mean, am I that disgusting that you can't even sleep next to me? It's not like either of us have anything to hide anymore! For Agni's sake, you saw me naked when I was _fifteen_-!"

"_Fine_," Zuko gave in, getting up and climbing onto the large bed beside her, lighting the candle on the bedside table so he could concentrate it throughout the night so that he wouldn't fall asleep. "And that was an accident, a one time thing! Learn to _let it go_, Sweetness-"

"Not a chance," Katara grumbled with a smirk, settling down to sleep beside the firebender.

* * *

Katara honestly doesn't know whether to splutter into laughter or blush until the blood seeps right out of her face when she awakes to Zuko's strong arm encircled around her waist possessively, protectively, feeling the swell of his bicep lean against her body. She can feel his sturdy chest and abdomen against her back, his nose pressed into the back of her head amongst the mess of her dark, loose curls that he's sleeping on simultaneously. She knows that he knows she's awake when he shuffles a little against her, but he doesn't wrench his arm away and push away to the other side of the bed like Katara thinks he will.

"Are you _spooning_ me, Fire Lord Zuko?" Katara asked in a sleepy and mocking voice, unable to stop herself from grinning.

"Shut up," Zuko snapped, practically like a growl. "It's winter. I'm freezing. Sue me, Sweetness."

He's so inexplicably warm against her that Katara honestly can't come up with a good enough argument to get up, even though the light of dawn is creeping in through the thin, cheap drapes. She considers berating him about his saying that firebenders 'rise with the sun', but sleep pulls at her again before she could form a proper sentence. She worries momentarily, wondering how long he'd been asleep for, why he took such a risk to fall asleep at the same time as her, and a small part of her tells her to stay awake just in case, but she drifts off, slowly but surely, in the arms of a grumpy firebender.

And neither of them can believe it's been two full years since all this started.

_._

_"I think you were very wise to choose happiness and love." _

_._

* * *

**In this chapter, I guess I want to make it apparent that Katara isn't some conventionally pretty little girl anymore. Now, she's covered in these horrendous scars that should be disgusting, but real women are not perfect and flawless and pristine. We have scars. We are flawed. We are far from perfect. But appreciating a woman's beauty _beyond_ those flaws is what _true _beauty is, in my opinion. Katara is now covered head to toe in marred skin and she is _still _beautiful. I hope I got that point across. **

**As for Zuko...well, he'll always be a hottie. **

**FYI, next chapter is gonna be intense. Just warning you all now!**

**- Yin**


	6. 30 Months

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

* * *

**30 Months **

After a grande total of three months passed without Katara bloodbending Zuko in her sleep, they decided to celebrate.

Even though this feat was hardly anything that required that much excitement for a normal person, for Katara, it was better than her birthday, than the winter solstice, than winning this war, because it meant that all the scars, all the physical and emotional and mental pain of bloodbending, all the practicing and testing and devotion she put into not becoming a monster was starting to pay off, starting to actually mean something, kindling up this new found hope inside of her that maybe, just maybe, one day she would be okay again. Sure, she might never be able to return to a normal life, but maybe one day, she'd be able to look at herself in the mirror and not turn away in disgust.

And that was more than enough for her.

At first, when Katara clings to Zuko's arm like a child as they saunter through the market looking for an expensive food or drink to splurge on, he finds it a little uncomfortable, but not the bad kind; it was simply because this was the way Mai, his ex-_girlfriend_ used to hold him, and that made Zuko a little wary, because his Katara is his _friend, _only. But Katara's unfamiliar happy laughs and smiles and jokes and giggles were infectious, poisoning him until Zuko couldn't help but smirk down at her from the corner of his eye as she held the inside of his elbow, just below the swell of his bicep, her other hand resting lightly on the middle of his strong forearm.

The firebender would never admit it, but he sort of liked the feeling of her on his arm.

And apparently a merchant at the market place liked it too, because he gave the pair two bottles of some exotic fruit drink, no charge.

Neither of them asked why as they sauntered back to their current motel, Katara's smile still spread across her face as the glass bottles of the bright orange and yellow fruit drink clinked together in the bag Zuko carried in his other hand, the one that wasn't on the arm that was still being occupied by the waterbender. With the sun setting behind them, they both thought that this moment was the closest thing to perfection they'd seen in a long time.

But perfection is a fragile thing.

* * *

It's only when Katara starts giggling hysterically like a school girl does Zuko start to question the authenticity of that drink.

He curses as he tries to pry the waterbender off of his back, who was still clutching onto him like a koala-lizard, legs curled around his waist, arms curled around his throat, giggling profusely into the nape of his neck as she rambles on about something that doesn't make sense at all, her masses of long, dark curly hair thrown over his shoulders somehow at its length as Zuko scrambles around the motel, trying to find the bottle so that he could read it's contents, glad he didn't open his own yet as he blew some of Katara's hair out of his face momentarily, continuing to crawl around.

"Woo hoo, free buffalo-yak ride!" Katara screams at the top of her lungs, making Zuko wince as he felt his ears almost burst.

"Katara, people are trying to _sleep _in the other rooms!" Zuko spat furiously under his breath, peering about the room before finally seeing the small, empty bottle roll across the floor, reaching out and grabbing it, spinning it in his hands to find the ingredients.

"Well, _sorry_ mister Fire Lordy-pants!" Katara whispers, giggling immediately after as she clutched onto Zuko's neck so tightly he choked. Blood rises to the firebenders face not because of this, though, but because can feel the swell of her breasts press against his back through the thin fabric of her wrappings, feel her hot breath in the shell of his ruined ear as she squeals behind him. "Can't I just have some fun with _my best friend in the who-oo-le world-_?!"

Zuko just ignores her (or rather, tries to ignore her chest against his back), reading out the ingredients. "Mango juice, pineapple juice, guava...cactus juice?"

Katara gasped over dramatically, and the following words pierced Zuko's ear drums. "ZUKO, DON'T DRINK THE CACTUS JUICE!"

Zuko plucks her off of his back in an instant and pins her against the thin carpet as someone in the adjacent room bangs against the wall, swearing like an angry sailor, which Zuko has heard enough of in his lifetime. One pale palm is clamped over Katara's giggling mouth as she lays under him, curls fanned out, azure eyes gleaming in a drunk-looking gaze. Zuko has his knees either side of her as he waits for the man to stop swearing on the other side of the wall from all the noise, glaring down at the waterbender who just continues to laugh and laugh, muffled against his large hand over her mouth.

But under the moonlight that peeks in from their open window, she looks so exquisite, even in her drunken manner as she calms down a little, laying still underneath his broad body. Her caramel skin is gleaming, and Zuko is so enthralled by it that his hand slips away from her mouth, revealing the full mauve lips that she's biting as she stares up at him in wonder, in awe, like _he's _the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. She reaches up with her nimble, thin fingers, running them along the edge of his scar, and Zuko froze at the gesture.

"You know, Zuko..." Katara breathes out, barely a whisper as she gazes up into his golden eyes, her vision slipping to the puckered, marred skin of his scar as she strokes it gently. "If it wasn't for your scar, I don't think I'd like you as much. Makes me feel like you've worked for what you have, like you understand what you have when you have it..."

Even though the only thing stopping him from crashing down into her body is his forearms that are planted either side of her head, Zuko's eyes still flutter closed, just about feeling her touch under the rough skin, the nerves destroyed and senseless as Katara continued to run her fingers along it. She made him feel so perfect under her touch, which was a foreign and unfamiliar feeling to the firebender; she made him feel so proud to be who he was, and nobody else made him feel like that. Even back under Ba Sing Se, in the crystal catacombs, she was the first person he'd let come close enough to feel his mark.

"You're the first person I've ever let touch it." Zuko mumbled, their noses almost touching as Zuko's head lolled down from the drowsiness of her touch.

There was a pause, and Katara snorted loudly. "That sounds like a line from a filthy porno scroll-"

"Okay," Zuko growled, the tender moment ruined with her snorts, getting up and reaching down to toss the giggling girl over his shoulder. "I think it's time for bed."

* * *

When she woke up the next morning, squinting from the mild headache, she only had to look at Zuko before he replied.

"You finished your weird mango cactus drink within five minutes, took all your clothes off until you were in your wrappings, started speaking in Momo language, and that made you laugh for, like, ten minutes, and then you climbed on my back and screamed something about a buffalo-yak, whatever that is, _then_ screamed about cactus juice, and _that's _when the guy next door got pissed off, oh, and something about a porno scroll - _no comment, Katara_ - and then you slapped my ass at one point before you fell asleep, _really _hard, and screamed out 'yip yip'; and_ that's_ when the guy next door complained to the manager; we have to leave by noon, by the way-"

"I _what-?!_" Katara screeched, fingers threading through her hair as she reddened. "I...I slapped your-"

Zuko nodded, hiding his smirks at the look on her face, peering back at his rear. "I think you've bruised it or something, it hurts when I sit down-"

"Oh, Agni..." Katara whined in embarrassment, listening to the firebender chortle as she pressed her palms against her heated face.

* * *

They had literally picked the worst time of the year to sleep in caves again.

It's a precaution they fall back to every once in a while, sort of like a tradition, because even now, almost two and a half years into this travelling business, Zuko and Katara still get paranoid about being followed or tracked; he was the Fire Lord, and she the waterbender who saved the world, after all. It was snowing outside, nothing like in the South Pole, but Katara had been gone for so long now, she didn't really remember what that kind of cold felt like; so she was shivering, just like Zuko, crawling over to the large fire he lit after freezing a thick sheet of ice over the opening of the cave, preserving what heat they had.

Zuko smirked as she pushed her way through roughly to sit in the space between his crossed legs, wrapping their shared towel around her body, covering her ears as she shivered, poking him lightly in the ribs, as if trying to force a flame out of his mouth to lick its warmth across her skin. When Zuko withheld his fire breath on purpose, Katara growled hitting the middle of his chest with her head, trying again to choke a fire out of him. But when her ear made contact with the smooth, firm planes of his warm chest, covered in his thin shirt and tunic atop of it, she couldn't help but lean into him, cursing about the weather.

"Are you _sure _you're from the South Pole?" Zuko asked with a smirk, and he could practically hear her frown under his chin.

"Just shut up and hug me, Sparky, before I freeze to death."

"Are you asking me to _spoon _you, Master Katara?" Zuko breathed down into her ear in his warm, husky voice, and Katara swallowed, hoping to swallow down her blush, too. She could feel his thick, strong arms come around her small, scarred body, feel his chin rest on the top of her head nicely, feel him lean back against the wall and pull her back to lean on him with it. He was inexplicably and wonderfully warm, with that intoxicating musky scent and inner fire of his that Katara almost fell asleep, barely remembering to reply as her eyes fluttered closed.

"It's freezing, we're in a _cave_, and you're a firebender with body heat to share," Katara mumbled. "Sue me, Sparky."

She could hear his lips crack into a smirk softly, just before the corner of her mouth twitched into a small grin as she tumbled into slumber against him.

* * *

Honestly, Zuko had no idea he was drinking the fruit-cactus juice until he'd finished it.

It wasn't even his fault; Katara was busy washing her clothes by the river, and Zuko had totally forgotten they'd even kept the drink in the first place; since they were back on the outskirts of the Fire Nation again, the weather picked up considerably, the humidity of the night pricking at his skin, making him reach out for the juice drink and down the entire thing in one go; it was a wonderfully refreshing change as opposed to the water they drank, but the second it settled in Zuko's stomach, swirling around there much like his brain started to swirl around from the hallucinations, he deadpanned in horror.

But by the time Katara returned back to the cave, washed and dried clothes in hand, Zuko was already scraping a rock against the stoned cave wall, scratching out marks roughly, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration like a child. Katara squinted in confusion as she watched him from behind, and then she saw the empty glass bottle of the fruit-cactus juice roll past, and an inexcusably huge grin spread over her features as she fought to contain her laughs within her body.

"Zuko...?" she called out slowly, her grin hurting her cheeks. "Did you...have something to drink?"

He flicks his head behind her with a scowl, his head lolling back. "Shh! I'm _drawing_!"

It's hard for Katara to make out through the darkness of the cave, because Zuko didn't light a fire yet, so her only line of vision came from the light of the moon that flooded in from behind her. She can see his little scratches made with a stone, and it looks like something a child would draw, or something Sokka would draw on a bad day. She tries her hardest to keep in her laughter as she approaches the firebender, standing beside him, squinting and leaning closer to try and make out what he was drawing, snorts threatening to escape her parted mauve lips.

Zuko leaned back, dropping the stone, inspecting his work seriously as he folded his arms. "It's official. I'm a better drawer than you."

Katara bites her lip hard at the laughter that almost choked her. "What _is _it?!"

"It's _Katara_! My _best_ friend!" Zuko cried indignantly, pointing at the scratching on the wall in front of them. "Look, these are her eyes, then her long, spiral-ly hair - it's really soft, you should touch it some time - and this is her smile, she has a nice smile, and this is some water she's bending right here!" _  
_

"Uhh..." Katara lets out between her smirking lips as she looks on, but he's already tugging her wrists, pulling her to the middle of the cave, the look on his face sloppy yet tender, mischievous and hazy with hallucination. "Z-Zuko! What're-"

"Would you like to dance with me?" Zuko offered his hand, his accent unnecessarily formal, making her splutter.

"Er...I-"

"Great!" Zuko shouts, pulling her into his chest with a wide grin, and Katara can't help the blush that erupts on her cheeks, at the feel of his body pressed against hers, her nose in his sternum until she lifts her head to meet his golden eyes hazy with hallucination. "Dancing is my favourite. I don't say it out loud, but it is - not, like, 'waahh' fast dancing, but 'mmm' slow dancing."

Katara wheezed with laughter into his chest, her words mere gasps. "'Waahh' dancing-?!"

"Okay," Zuko started, his formal accent returning as he placed a hand on her waist gently, his cheeks rosy from the drink's effects. "So I'm going to go one way, and you have to go the same way as I do because that's how 'mmm' dancing works, got it? The guy goes one way and the girl goes that way - maybe when you get good at it you can choose which way we go, but not now."

"Aang taught me to dance in Fire Nation style one time..." Katara mused, grinning at the scowl that spread over his face. "But it was more like acrobatics-"

"_Avatar Aang_ is one hundred years out of d-date," Zuko scolded, but his words slurred a little as he lead them both through this dance as Katara tried to conceal the laughs that wanted to tear out of her. "But _I'm _Zuko, Mister Fire-Lordy-Pants of the fire-y nation of fire. I know _loads _more about dancing than him. Especially fire-y dancing._ I_ am the Avatar of fire-y dancing."

Katara just nodded into his chest as they danced slowly in the middle of the cave, only the moonlight seeping in through the opening of the cave, illuminating only parts of them as they turned and swayed, music-less, letting Zuko's surprisingly nimble feet guide them. Despite his hazy state, Katara let her guard and sighed as she lent her forehead on his sternum and let Zuko move them, listening to the howl of the soft wind, the trees fluttering outside. She almost thought she'd float off the face of the earth with Zuko's strong arms around her, but the silence broke swiftly.

"I think I would make a great lemur - better than Momo," Zuko voiced aloud, his voice flat with seriousness. "I'm quick. I know the language. I'm familiar with lemur culture. I'm adorable, obviously. I'd be an asset to the group-"

"Okay," Katara sighed, the peaceful moment ruined with Zuko's babbling, halting their dancing and dragging Zuko to their mats. "I think it's time for bed."

* * *

When Zuko awoke to a blinding headache the next day, all he had to do was squint at the waterbender for an explanation.

"We danced a bit, and you told me you were the Avatar of dancing, I don't know, and then you tried to convince me you would make a better lemur than Momo, and when I tried to get you to go to bed you got mad at me and tried to convince me that you could be _other _animals - with noises, might I add - and then tried to braid my hair for about an hour, but you ended up just stroking me like I was Appa or something, and then you told me some personal secrets, like how you wet the bed until you were twelve-"

"I _what-?!_" Zuko exploded, cheeks burning, but his eyes fell to the scratches on the cave wall. "...What the fuck is _that_?"

Katara snorted. "Oh yeah," she said with a smirk. "You drew me. With rocks. See look, these are my eyes, this is my hair - which apparently, is very soft, since you advised me to touch it sometime - and these are-"

"Oh, Agni..." Zuko groaned into his palms, flopping back into his mat as Katara laughed herself into a stupor.

* * *

She knew they were going to die, for this time, there was no escape.

Katara cursed as the thug leader twisted a cloth and shoved into her mouth, tying a secure knot at the back of her head as she fought weakly against the shackles, the horrific bruises from the gang's beatings weighing her down. Sure, the crescent moon was glimmering down at her, screaming at her to use its power, but her hands and feet were bound with thick, expensive metal, her mind groggy as one of the two and a half dozen men hit her over the head again, and she could feel the blood trickle down her temple as she lolled to the side, groaning in pain.

Her dazed azure eyes can just pick out Zuko, a few yards in front of her, as he grunts through the cloth in his mouth viciously when he saw whatever man it was hit her again; but they just hit him in response, across his beautiful face, and Katara whines behind her cloth at the sight of him being beaten to a pulp like her. Her hair is sticky with blood, as is his, as the thugs mutter to one another about where to drag their half-dead bodies, about how to get the attention of their friends and family so that they could sell them back and win a fortune in doing so.

It's useless, her stupid brain, alarmed at what was happening, still so confused; but it was simple, really.

This gang had been hunting for them for months, desperate to get their hands on Master Katara, one of the world's greatest saviours, and the famous Fire Lord Zuko, the Fire Nation's long awaited breaker of dishonour; they were clever when they finally tracked them, using the art of surprise, waiting for them to retreat to caves again, keeping their distance, waiting until they fell into deep sleep, before cuffing and binding them and beating them to a point where they could barely stay awake, let alone fight back.

Katara could feel the gang leader's rough fingers thread through her scalp, yanking back her hair viciously to hiss into her ear, his breath warm, droplets of spittle landing on the shell of her ear as she listened to him smirk. "Do you have any idea how long we've been looking for you and your boyfriend? Do you have any idea how much you're worth?"

Zuko grunted weakly through the twisted cloth in his mouth, stretching his mouth open roughly, his eyes lolling back into his head from the pain that burned through his body, as he struggled to keep up in a sitting position, golden eyes brimming with tears of both pain and horror as he watches some other man kick Katara in the stomach harshly, and he can hear the wind knocked out of her as he tugs her hair back again viciously, her scalp burning.

"Didn't think the rumours could be true of a peasant," Zuko could hear that man hiss into the waterbender's ear. A fire erupts in the center of his chest when he sees his tongue flick over her bloodied temple, sees Katara shiver and grimace and groan as she tries to weakly pull away. "But it's all true - you sure are a pretty one-"

"Boss," one of the mean grunt out. "She's not for playing. She's for selling, back to their little friends for a payment, along with this pathetic Fire Lord."

Zuko could barely see properly, barely make out this men's faces through their low cackles as they beat the bending pair every do often; but they could both see a flash of dark green, merciless eyes on the leader of these thugs, a dirty sneer coupled with it as a low chuckle shifted through the group. Zuko's knees ached from sitting with his legs under him like this for long, cheeks hurting from being pulled back by the twisted cloth in his mouth, body bruised and bleeding, ribs cracked, bones fractured, and he was quite sure he had dislocated his ankle that burned beneath him, and Katara was probably worse off than he; but none of it compared to the pain of watching that man push his hands under Katara's thin shirt, sliding up from her hips to her waist.

"So?" the man replied, those dark green eyes prying through the darkness to reach the firebender's eye sight. "What the Avatar and their friends won't know won't kill them-"

And all of a sudden, energy summoned up within herself, Katara _slams _her forhead into that of the man's temple, sending him flying back, hitting the thick grass, as she groans and almost falls over onto the ground underneath her knees, and she can feel the warm blood trickle down the bridge of her nose, trail across her cheeks as she moans, her head ringing, her vision spinning, but none of that slackened that burning pain that erupted in her scalp again as the thug leader got up with a growl, grabbing the ends of her hair and pulling her head back so hard that Katara was sure clumps of her curls fell into his palm.

"_Stupid bitch!_" The thug roared, and she froze internally when she heard the clink of metal against metal of a dagger being drawn from it's pouch; Zuko's golden eyes filled with alert, his heart in his throat, his stomach clenching into a knot as he screamed at her through the cloth in his mouth.

Katara roared in pain when the thug plunged the dagger into the side of her right breast, groaning out, her body lolling with the white burn that spread through her, in the ache that blossomed there, the blood that seeped through her clothes, and she hit the ground as her screams, muffled and wordless from the cloth in her mouth, erupted from her throat, the warm, thick, crimson blood sliding down her as she rolled about in agony, tears pricking at her eyes not just from the gash in her breast, but because she knew she was going to die here.

She knew that this was it for her, sure - but she couldn't handle the thought of Zuko falling into the abyss with her.

Zuko roared out in horror, his tears finally spilling over his golden eyes at the sight of her and her blood, the wind licking at his skin; he lurched forward, fire erupting from his nose and his heels, propelling him forward, but they were too fast. Zuko was too weak to move quick enough. And the pain in Katara's chest was taken over with the pain of watching their life together flash before her eyes; Zuko chasing them over the world, Zuko under Ba Sing Se, Zuko earning her trust, Zuko joining her in her travels, Zuko holding her, Zuko sparring with her, Zuko arguing with her, Zuko laughing with her, Zuko shirtless and saying her name, Zuko drunk on fruit-cactus juice, Zuko shouting at her, Zuko crying for his mother, Zuko crying for her, Zuko holding her against him as they slept in a filthy cave, Zuko smiling, Zuko sleeping, Zuko meditating-

All she could think was _Zuko_, as the thug leader stabbed him in the chest.

The scream that erupted from her throat shattered her own eardrums, piercing through the wind itself, and something inside of Katara, something deep and dark and untouched, grabbed hold of the moon's light and _snapped_; her arms were still tied, along with her feet, but it didn't matter. Sucking in a deep breath, her eyes murderous, she grabbed hold of every gang member, one by one, raising them up into the sky and killing them before throwing aside their dead, mutilated bodies and picking up another few. It truly was a puppet show, Zuko could just about make out through his hazy vision as he felt the life drain from his like the blood from his chest, golden eyes closing, the pain just a dull ache he groaned against the ground, his bod shutting down, eyes drifting shut.

All he could think of, see, hear, feel, _want _was Katara.

Those golden eyes didn't open again.

The thugs scrambled away, shouting in terror, but Katara's eyes were dark with hatred as she grabbed the blood in their ankles and dragged them back to her with her mind alone, jutting her chin as she grabbed their hearts from inside their chests and squeezed until they exploded within their rib cage. She didn't move once, not one little twist or turn of her bound body; just a jutting of her chin, a hiss of her breath, and the brains of the people who beat and stabbed her best friend, _her Zuko,_ collapsed within their own skulls, making their bodies fall to the ground with a hollow thud. _  
_

And red blinded her.

It was all a haze - grabbing the body of a remaining thug and twisting his limbs with her mind to make him unshackle her before ripping his head off - but sooner or later, Katara was crawling over to the firebender, the night silent once more, save for her sobs of horror, as sat next to his lifeless body, her breath stuck in her throat. She unshackled him with pressurized water, snatched the cloth from his beautiful mouth, shook him, slapped him, pulled his hair, like she did when she annoyed him when he meditated, but _he wouldn't move _even after she screamed and screamed his name and healed and healed with the water from some trees, encasing his entire torso, the air thick with the smell of blood.

"Zuko, please...you won't leave me; you'll never leave me, remember?" Katara spat out angrily, shakily, barely able to speak between her wails as she pressed the water down harder, picked up his spilled blood and forced it back into the gash in his chest. She was barely whispering, mostly just mouthing what he'd said to her a months ago. "Y-You take care of me, I take care of you. We have each other's backs...w-we don't let each other down, Zuko. We protect each other. _Even if it means we hurt each other-_"

Her voice didn't even make any sense because she was too busy screaming out cries, shaking her aching head furiously as panicked azure eyes flitted to his face; his perfect, milky skin on his face was smeared with blood, full pink lips parted, thick ebony hair slick with blood, pulled back to reveal his forehead. But his eyes were open, his eyes were _open and looking at her, _but not really looking; that spark within the intoxicating golden center that made her stomach flip so many times was _gone_, empty and lifeless, like his body. Like her world. Like her mind. Like her life.

And she can't think. She can't breathe. Because it wasn't even this bad when her mother died, when Aang was hit with Azula's ligtening, when Jet died, when countless people fell before her eyes.

Because _Zuko_, her entire _life _for the past two and a half years, her entire _world,_ was stone cold _dead _right in front of her.

Who was she supposed to annoy? Travel with? Ask for advice? Laugh with?

Who was she supposed to learn from or cry to or huddle against in the cold?

How was she supposed to live alone? How was she supposed to be _Katara _without her _Zuko_?

And for the second time that night, she _snapped _again, and Katara knew that she would never be the same, and that the old her was dead and gone for good - but even if it meant selling her soul in exchange for Zuko's, she didn't care; lifting up her skilled arms, she flicked away her healing water, gathered Zuko's blood and _pushed _it inside of him. That same glow that lit up her healing water was lighting up the blood in his open and gaping chest, making his skin glow from the inside, now, as Katara pressed her palms against him, closing her eyes and prying through the layers of his skin, his flesh, his ribs, his heart, touching his inner fire, his chakra pools, his chi paths, and his very _soul_, into the very depths of what human life actually was.

And when she found it, this warm little part that was never supposed to be seen or touched, that little part that wasn't meant for mortal hands, she sensed it out with her bloodbending and _pulled_ it, forcing life back inside of it, because if anyone deserved to die, it _was not him. _

And if she was worth anything in this Agni forsaken world, _she would not let him die here. _

And that low, breathy groan that slipped through Zuko's parted lips alone made Katara sob out in happiness, in sheer joy, gathering him up in her arms and cradling him, crying into his scarred cheek like a child, rocking him as her tears washed away some of the dried blood on his face. Zuko leaned into her warm touch, a strange, heavy feeling overcoming him. But he pressed himself closer into her neck, into her shuddering body, and the feeling lessened and lessened and lessened until the only thing Zuko could feel was the roughness of her scarred skin on his, of the warm, clean, familiar scent that filled him.

"Don't ever do that again..." she pleaded into his temple, and his eyes softened through the hazy feeling of living through death itself as he noticed the utter fear in her tears, her face, because she means it. She honestly means it, and he doesn't know if it makes his heart soar or slacken. "You can't ever, _ever _leave me like that, do you understand?! You idiot, Zuko...I _need _you..."

And even in his aching, pained, beat up, bruised and barely alive state, he's able to wrap his arms around her.

He doesn't say anything as he notices the dead, decapitated bodies littered around them like flowers.

He just holds her shaking body tighter.

* * *

She's still can't digest the fact that for a second, she was alone and Zuko-less in the world.

It's a horrible and disgusting feeling, the very prospect of it making Katara shiver; but what's worse is when she thinks about what she did to that gang, using her _mind _somehow to kill them in whichever way she wanted through her rage. And it wasn't like another force had taken over her, that she didn't know what she was doing; she did. She chose to do those awful things, because she was so, so, so _afraid _of living in this world where Zuko wasn't there, because she of all people did not deserve the gift of life - but he did. And the pain of not being able to deal with the fact of her possibly _winning _overtook her.

It makes Katara plummet down from her initial high, six months ago, when she was glad she wasn't bloodbending in her sleep anymore; now, she had _too _much control. Now all she needed was her _mind _and she could kill dozens of men without so much as blinking. The fear of it, the disgust and self loathing, it triples, quadruples, to a point where all Katara can manage is hugging her knees and pressing her face into her arms as she fears her own existence, as she hates on Agni for letting her live, as she wonders whether she was destined to become this way or chose this path herself.

Either prospect just scares her more.

And all Zuko can do is swallow and hold her, whisper fiercely in her ear, _stop it, you idiot, _and _you saved me, what kind of monster does that, hm? _and _you're my Katara, and my Katara isn't bad, she's _good, _I swear to fucking Agni she's _golden-

It's a type of healing Zuko knows will take longer than a lifetime to heal - probably a few eternities.

He's never really been the patient type, but as he holds her as she cries herself to sleep at night again, he thinks he can learn, for her.

* * *

**Okay - so Zuko died. And what Katara did in reaction to that was how I think Mental Bloodbending would realistically develop; through a traumatic incident where you and your body and your _mind _are left with no other choice. The things that Katara did in this chapter were very brutal and very unlike her character, _but there is a reason for this. _However, I won't reveal it for a while.**

**And Katara brought Zuko back from the dead; but this time, no spirit water or energybending. ****Just bloodbending. I still refrained from gore that I wanted to add, but oh well. I don't even want to think about what it feels like to have that kind of power and be as moral-driven as Katara is - self loathing is a hard thing to depict, and I hope I portrayed it okay.**

**Sorry for the late update and typos - been swamped with Zutara Week this year and all it's prompts. **

**- Yin**

**P.S. Guys - we're half way through! 30 more months to go til the end...eek!**


	7. 36 Months

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

* * *

**36 Months **

They both become unnecessarily protective of each other, but neither of them complain.

Even though the attack the two survived was months ago, they found themselves still healing from the shock of it all, just as they found that incidents like that in life is what turn the innocent into bitter and dangerous people. Because in the end, despite Zuko and Katara being rather too hostile to anyone other than each other, exchanging sneers with total strangers just to prove they aren't to be messed with, it was all simply because the fear of loosing each other multiplied after that catastrophic event, because somehow, they weren't as invincible or untouchable as they thought and felt they were, even if they were together.

Zuko glares at anyone who looks at Katara for longer than what he deems is necessary (which is often, because pretty girls are hard to ignore), the grip on her waist a little painful as his nails dig in sharply, practically daring someone to even _try _to lay a hand on his best friend, the fire burning up in his golden eyes alone being enough to blast the whoever-they-are's off into oblivion as he recalls the gut wrenching memories of that disgusting thug sliding his hands up inside her tunic, his slimy tongue on her temple, and Zuko is snorting flames with utter rage before he even knows it.

Katara's hostility, though, differs from Zuko's; where he is all rage, all flames, grunting from anger or irritation, making it clearly apparent to her and whatever stranger it was he didn't approve of that he's clearly unnerved, Katara was like a white anger, silent and almost serene, keeping far too close an eye on everyone around them, tracking the heartbeats of the people within a miles radius with her now incredible levels of bloodbending, to see if anyone's hearts would speed up with the adrenaline of an attack they were planning on them.

But there's something in her compassion; it's tripled, quadrupled, taken over completely, filling her with a rage she cannot possibly control, but the thing is, after everything this girl has been forced through, _Zuko doesn't blame her. _He doesn't blame her as she pauses at an alleyway in the evening, seeing a group of hooded men approach a couple, even though they had agreed to keep themselves out of trouble. He doesn't blame Katara as she walks over to the group of men as they proceed to try and mug the couple, beat the man, and rape the woman, lifting up her hand and grabbing the blood in the throats of the criminals.

Calming, electric blue eyes pierce through the terrified men as they hover in the air, gasping for breath. As Zuko joins her from behind, he can see the half beaten couple huddle together against the wall as they gasp and quake as they look at Katara, but her hate for injustice took away her ability to care as she looked up from behind the hood of her cloak, cutting off some of the blood supply to the criminals' heads so that they fall unconscious, and Katara drops their bodies to the ground with a thud, her eyes flicking to the horrified, beaten couple that gaze up at her.

"What _are _y-" the man tries to ask, but Katara has their bruised bodies encased in water, healing them, and Zuko's brow furrows when he sees Katara creep up to their ears with some water, filling their ears with the cool liquid, doing the same thing with the the thugs on the ground.

"What're you..?" Zuko asks, hearing the couple groan as they drift carefully and gently out of consciousness.

"Erasing their memories of us; or, at least, making it too hazy for them to remember anything clearly," Katara replied softly, and he knows that behind her hood, she's numb. "One time, I helped Jet look into his memories of Lake Laogai. It's the using the same technique, just...specified."

Zuko doesn't say anything as they leave the unconscious couple with some motel owners before they leave this town.

He says nothing as Katara holds his hand as they sleep.

* * *

Katara hates to admit it, but the truth is, she's the only one who knows Zuko well enough in the world to be able to determine it.

Zuko gave up looking for his mother.

The spark in his eyes faltered too often now, to a point where he didn't really care what their next source told them, didn't really care what town they were going to next. It pained Katara more than anything, because Zuko was her irreplaceable _fire, _and seeing him like this upset her to no end, because _fires like him can't die_; it's not that he's dreary or groggy or crude with her. It's just that when the subject of his mother is brought up, he turns away because it hurts too much to listen to, because it's been almost _three years _and even Zuko cannot take this much heartache.

It doesn't settle in Katara that he's really given up until she hears him sniff beside her in the middle of the night, and she can hear her heart break in her chest. His back is facing her, and she gets out of her mat and climbs into his, and Zuko presses his lips together as tears slide out of his eyes when her arms wrap around his waist from behind, when he feels her face press into the nape of his neck, when he feels her hands tug on his until he holds them gently, carefully, and only he hears Katara sniff into his back and feels her tears dampen his thin shirt does Zuko realize that Katara is crying, too.

Because when one of them hurts, so does the other.

"I just...really miss her," Zuko mumbles into his pillow. "I know it's selfish to think this way, but...I just wish she'd never left in the first place."

When he feels her nod into his back silently, Zuko feels a little better, because he knows that she is the only one on earth who actually _understands._

* * *

"Why are you so small?" Zuko asked with a smirk, watching her jump up and down, clawing at him with a snarl as he held her dinner bowl above his head. Katara glared up at him, straddling him as she tried to reach up and snatch the bowl from his hand. "Aren't you almost eighteen? Why are you still so _tiny_-"

"Five foot two is not _tiny, _it's just not _gigantic_ like you and your lanky Fire Nation girls!" Katara hissed, and Zuko laughed as she bared her teeth with concentration as her fingers shook, just about reaching his wrist that was over his head. "Besides, Water Tribe women have evolved all squat and stumpy because they had to work all day! So it's not my fault you're over a foot taller than me, _your Majesty-_"

Zuko lost his balance as Katara thrust her whole weight forward to try and take her dinner bowl back from him, and they both yelped as Zuko fell backwards, flat on his back with a painful thud that echoed through their cheap and tiny motel room, Katara plopping on top of him with an 'oof!' from the impact of hitting his firm chest. The firebender groaned in pain, and Katara cackled as she snatched the bowl from his now weak hand, sitting on his thighs as she stuck her tongue out at him, smirking directly afterwards, azure eyes alight with mischief.

"Just because I'm the inactive Fire Lord doesn't mean the girls of the Fire Nation are _my _girls," Zuko said as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at her, wincing from the weight of her focused entirely on his thighs. Katara scoffed, rolling her blue eyes, flicking some curly hair over her shoulder. He wasn't really thinking when he spoke the words. "_You're _my girl."

There was a pause, and Katara raised a brow at him, smirking, and Zuko reddened.

"No, as in, not like _that, _not like you're my _girl _girl, but like, I _know _you and you _know _me like no one else, you know?" Zuko stuttered, sitting up properly as he scratched the back of his head, Katara still sitting on his legs and smirking at the flustered firebender. "No, like, what I mean is, you're my _friend, _my _best _friend, we're always together, you taught me everything, and we, I...Agni, I sound like an ass-"

"Yeah, you do," Katara agreed, snickering, blue eyes alight, pink staining her cheeks as she pulls them both up, pulling all her hair to one side as she looks at him, waterfall of long, dark curls brushing against her jaw. "Now, come help _your girl _wash the dishes."

Zuko glared at her, opened his mouth to retaliate, but was silenced by Katara's loud laughter.

That, and the fleeting kiss she laid on his stubbled jaw - and now Zuko's the one with pink cheeks.

* * *

Sometimes, just sometimes, they take a breather.

It's surprising how much worrying about your friends, your nation, your bloodbending abilities, and your mother can take a toll on you. It gnaws away at you from the inside out until you're ready to explode, because just because you turn your back on that part of your life doesn't mean it just suddenly leaves you. It just means that it's not a part of your present anymore; and for the first time, Zuko and Katara think that this may not be a bad thing. They still don't know whether she'll ever return and see their friends, reveal herself to the world, master this technique she is getting rather close to perfecting.

But that's _okay,_ because right now, under the stars, they don't need tomorrow.

As long as they have each other, they don't _need_ certainty.

Katara sighs as she leans against the huge oak tree behind them, closing her eyes so that she can really feel the crisp midnight breeze lick against her rough and scarred skin. Zuko can't keep his eyes off of the waning moon, its glow hidden and hazy behind a string of protective clouds. The world is so silent that it's like no one exists but them, like mankind has been turned off for this one moment, that the only thing around them to keep them company were the rustling of the leaves in the trees or the sound of the wind fanning through the grass, through the darkened world.

With one hand still near his pocket, he wonders whether he should return her necklace to her now, since she's come so far, learned so much, turned the deadly art of bloodbending into a life saving technique that could save countless people. But Zuko refrains, yet again, for the third year running, because timing is everything, and he only has one chance to give this token back to her, only one chance to make her see how perfect she truly is, scars and killing and ranting and raging and weeping and bloodbending and demons and all.

Katara pulls Zuko's black tunic over her shoulders, the same one he gave her on their first nights together, the same one he gives her every night they sleep outside. She leans against his broad shoulder, her temple resting there softly, and the firebender smiles down at her, a small and special smile reserved only for her, and he rests his head on hers as they listen to the night breathe. He doesn't say anything, doesn't want to interupt this moment because he's afraid he'll ruin its perfection. Zuko wants Katara to enjoy this, wants her to forget about the things that plague her and just _let go_.

He wants her to be _happy_. He wants her to be_ free._ He wants her to have everything she _deserves_, because she deserves it more than _anyone. _

And when Zuko wraps his strong arm around her small shoulders, Katara is at peace.

* * *

The fact that it happens by chance makes it all the more unrealistic.

Katara doesn't even remember the name of this tiny little town, of this tiny little market place, of this tiny little island that floats between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom. But none of those things matter, because they are here, now, buying bread, vegetables and some thread (to mend clothes with), because they are running out. But that doesn't matter either. They're in the middle of this tiny little market place, amongst a small crowd, _and none of this damn well matters, _because Zuko's eyes practically shoot out of his head when he notes her features, yards away.

"Mum?" the word is breathless and sound-less, and Katara doesn't even know he's saying anything until she feels his heartbeat pick up beside her.

Her head snapped to him, following his trail of vision to a middle aged woman, walking away, sleek black hair cropped to rest above her shoulders, grocery bags in hand. Katara blinks, agape, wondering how Zuko could possibly tell that this woman was his mother, but before she can reason with him, he's bombarding through the market place with tears blurring his vision, his heart in his throat, and Katara thinks that maybe this is just primal instinct, because every offspring can seek out its parent, no matter what the circumstances.

Katara sees the scene unfolding before her eyes from afar as she stumbles behind Zuko with the grocery bags. He lays his hand on the woman's shoulder, she turns abruptly. There's a second where they are frozen, staring, and Katara can feel this woman's heartbeat soar and suddenly her arms are around Zuko, and Zuko hugs her so tight Katara thinks the woman will explode, and when she nears them, she can hear them _crying, _quiet little sobs that reach the waterbender's ears and make a smile pick up at the corners of her mouth, because she is so, so happy for Zuko.

Because all Katara ever wanted was for Zuko to be_ happy_. To be _free._ To have everything he _deserves_ because, Agni, he deserves it more than _anyone_.

When the waterbender approaches, holding back behind Zuko awkwardly, she sees Ursa, Zuko's mother, for the first time. She's pretty, more than pretty as she draws back to hold her son's face in her hands, to press her pink lips to his forehead. Her eyes are golden, misty with tears a replica of Zuko's, warm and kind and alight with a fire that cannot be described. Her features are soft, serene, porcelain skin flawless and perfect, sleek black hair shining under the setting sun as she presses her forehead to Zuko's, whispering words along the lines of, 'My boy, my son, Zuko...Zuko, my baby boy, _Zuko_'.

They pull away eventually, and Ursa wipes the tears off of her son's face gently, making him smile softly. He turns to Katara behind him, and she bites her lip as she looks up at him timidly, then over to his mother, even more timidly. Zuko just smiles at her, a smile that makes her stomach flip and her heart spin out of control, holding out a hand and guiding her close to his side. Katara's azure eyes meet Ursa's golden ones, and they are both soft, both caring and kind, and Zuko doesn't know why, but this moment where he sees the two most important women in his life together makes him feel something more than elation.

"Mum, this is Katara," Zuko starts in raspy voice, turning to her, golden eyes still glistening with tears. "She's my..."

He doesn't know what to call her, what label to give her, and so when he fumbles for an answer, he just says what feels most natural, best suited to her.

"She's my everything. My world."

Katara looks at him, silent, full mauve lips parted from surprise, but her shock from his words are erased and replaced by the shock of Ursa gathering the petite girl into her arms and gripping onto her like she's _her own_ _daughter. _And that little bit of malice that was jealous of Zuko, jealous of him having his mother here with him, it vanishes into thin air, because this woman she doesn't even know is holding her as if she carried her inside her womb, and Katara crumbles in her arms, face crumpling into the crook of her neck as she grips her back because it's been _so long _since she's been hugged by a mother.

"Thank you, Katara," Ursa whispers into Katara's hair, tears leaking from her eyes and into the dark curls. "Thank you for accompanying him. Thank you for guiding him. Thank you for helping him. Thank you for _bringing my son to me._"

And Zuko pulls them both into his chest, and they're all crying together, clutching onto each other as tears of joy overwhelm them.

And this, this right here, these broken people huddled together on the edge of a tiny island, of an even tinier market place, there only to buy bread and vegetables and thread to start with -

This is perfection at its finest.

* * *

They spend a couple of months with Ursa, and it's beneficial to both of them.

Zuko gets to bond with his mother, gets to learn about the side of his family that isn't filled with tyrants, and Katara gets to talk to _with a mother, _gets to talk and learn and laugh and adore the attention of a woman who lives up to all of Zuko's tales, to a woman who makes Katara feel like she never lost a mother in the first place. It makes the waterbender feel so calm and content, like she had found her own mother somehow, as she sips some tea with Ursa in her tiny living room, waiting for Zuko to come back with some fire wood to burn for the night.

"I suppose you both have grown awfully after running away together like this," Ursa says behind the rim of her mug, golden eyes twinkling at the blush that spreads over Katara's once caramel cheeks.

She can't help but envision the firebender in her mind every time he is brought up; the smooth, hard planes of his chest, the fire in his golden eyes that burns her with every glance, the charming smile that shines through the messy, unkept ebony hair, the swift angle of his jaw, the enriching smell of his musky, burnt scent, and Katara is already flustered and coughing into her tea. She can almost hear him in her head, saying her name in his raspy, deep voice. But it's more than his handsome-ness, more than his charm, his kindness, his laughter, his swearing, his snarky comments, his gentle smile, his horrific temper, his teasing.

"Wh-What? No, no it's not like that...I mean, yeah I ran away from everything and everyone, but not Zuko. He's the Fire Lord, after all, who will return eventually, and he came with me to find you-" Katara cuts herself off promptly, eyes fluttering down to her tea. "Which, I guess...means he doesn't really have a reason to stay with me anymore..."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," Ursa says softly, smiling at Katara as she brushed some of her curly hair behind her ear softly. "I think he has a very good reason. You _are _his world, after all."

Katara spluttered, swallowing thickly, hoping to swallow down the heat in her cheeks as Ursa laughed.

* * *

Even though it's been three years now, Zuko is still awed by Katara alone.

He doesn't know if it's from the wonderful high of having found his mother, but something about his best friend draws him in more curtly, sharply, unavoidably. Her beauty has multiplied within the year, ridiculously so; deep-set curves filling out her plain clothing wonderfully, long, dark curls that still fall to the backs of her hips, rough beige skin that glistens with the light that touches it, illuminating her scars, her achievements, her hardships, her past misery, her _beauty_. But it's more than that; it's more than her beauty and her swearing and her short temper and her snorting laughter and her dorky jokes.

But Zuko just can't quite figure out what it is.

Ursa joins his side as he looks on at the waterbender, watching her pad around in Ursa's small kitchen as she makes tea for the three of them, clad only in one of Zuko's old t-shirts and some leggings, her long, loose curls messy and dark and shiny as they lay over her shoulder, as she hums under her breath like she always does, as she holds the firebender's focus obliviously.

"Love is blind," Ursa pointed out quietly, and Zuko's head flicks to her, blinking.

"What? No, Katara's..." Zuko starts, but his sentence withers away the more he thinks about it.

"Blind as an old hag!" Ursa laughs quietly, patting her stunned son's broad shoulder.

.

_"Whilst it is always best to believe in one's self, a little help from others can be a great blessing." _

.

* * *

**So I'm just going to pretend the whole thing with The Search doesn't exist and Ursa is just there having fun on her own and yeah. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update; they will become more scarce over the next couple of weeks too, so I apologize. Pretty pivotal point in this chapter. Let me know what you all think.**

**This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful human that is Socks. **

**- Yin**


	8. 42 Months

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

* * *

**42 Months **

"Want me to come over there and warm you up with some firebending?" Zuko laughed quietly into the darkness, rolling over in his mat to face her, but her back was to him, the mist of his breath fanning out before him from the coldness as a beat skipped between them both, making the firebender frown, because he _knows _her, and if a snort or a dorky joke doesn't follow, then something_ must_ be up.

"No," Katara answered quietly, flatly, not moving even a muscle. "I've learnt how to regulate my body temperature with bloodbending."

Zuko sits up on his elbows to look at her through the darkness, his frown deepening at the tone of her voice. "Oh, yeah? How?"

Another beat passes, and Katara can practically hear him growling. "It's like when boiling water, except with blood, and milder. That and encouraging the circulation around my body so I feel less cold and keep messing with the foundation of my body cells at a minimum, which is essentially what heating blood is."

Katara didn't know what game Zuko was playing at by hanging around with her still, even though it had been two weeks since he had ushered Ursa back to the Fire Nation to be surrounded by loved ones and luxury once more; he had no reason to stay with her, no reason to tag along, because he had accomplished his goal, he had found his mother, and the longer he stayed with her unnecessarily like this, the more it would hurt when he left. It made her bitter and distant, unwanting to open up to him, because she doesn't know how long it's going to last - after all, he could break her heart and leave any day now.

Zuko swung his legs out of his mat, clicking his fingers and lighting the small candle on the small desk between them. This motel was definitely the worst they had ever stayed at; there was absolutely no heating whatsoever, which is what resulted in their warm breathes frosting through the air as they spoke. Their mats and bedding were tatty and moth bitten, the carpet thinner and dingier than ever, the smell of thick bleach stinging their nostrils every time they stepped foot in the pathetic excuse for a bathroom.

But none of that had mattered to Zuko before, because he was with Katara, and they could live in the bottom of a shower drain and he still knew he'd be fine, that it'd be tolerable, if he had her. But he starts to register it now as he stares at her with narrowed eyes, the small flame flickering throughout the room, her long, dark curls picking up it's light as they lay splayed out across the floor as she kept totally still, ignoring him, making Zuko even more irritated and concerned, because he is the one person she never, _ever_ hides anything from.

"What's wrong?" Zuko tried in his flattest voice, but it still left his mouth all rounded and soft.

It takes Katara a good few seconds to soak in the question and gather herself up mentally, on the inside, but before she can even try to roll over and sit up, try to explain these confusing feelings within herself, she sniffs out loud and listens to the tiny, almost mute thump of her thick tears hitting the pillow under her temple, the itch of those droplets as they tickle their way vertically down the bridge of her nose, and only then does she register the thickness in her throat and the tightness in her chest, only _then_ does Zuko crouch in front of her, pulling her forearms up gently until she's sitting up, golden eyes riddled with worry.

"What's wrong?" he repeats, but his voice is quieter as he watches Katara look up to the ceiling in a bid to keep her tears locked into her blue eyes, as he watched her press her trembling lips for a moment before finally allowing her vision to fall down to his.

"You...you're gonna leave," Katara blurts out through a whisper, eyes cast down to the dingy floor, and her eyes fill with tears again. "You found your mother, Zuko. You're done. But I still have a lot left to learn...and you don't have to stay anymore. You don't have a reason."

He looks down at her, down at her head of long, shiny and messy curls that lay askew over her shoulders, trailing over her breasts and down to her waist. Zuko looks at her rough and tattered skin, discoloured and puckered in many places from practicing bloodbending, at her long, dark lashes that flutter as she tries to blink away the tears that fill her azure eyes, at her full, mauve lips that are pressed together as they tremble, as her face contorts with the idea of being parted from him, at her petite body and limbs tangled up in the moth-eaten sheets and bedding, and he knows that this is the moment he has been waiting for.

He stands up silently, goes over to their pile of bags and clothes and pots and pans, sifts through them until he gets to his own small bag, shuffling through it and grabbing something before walking back over to her kneeling in front of her. Zuko looks at her, his strong jaw stubbled, pink lips parted slightly as he presses a palm to her temple, weaving his fingers through her hairline, shuffling closer, and she can smell his musky, burnt scent, can feel the warmth that radiates off of his large and muscled body, milky skin glistening under the flame's light.

He looks at her with golden eyes that melt her insides, looks through his shaggy, ebony hair, the dark pink hues of his scar reminding her that that this is _Zuko,_ _her _Zuko, and she sighs, leaning into the warmth of his rough palm. With both their visions cast downwards, Zuko opens his fist and the blue pendant with the navy ribbon looks up at them, and he can practically hear the breath leave Katara's lungs.

"You left this at my Uncle's tea shop," Zuko recalls, even though he knows he doesn't need to as he studies the absolute shock that covers her face as she studies the necklace in his palm. "Knowing you, Katara...you thought you weren't worthy, right? You thought you didn't deserve to wear and possess such an heirloom, such an incredible gift, that you had to _earn _your honour back before you could call yourself Kya's daughter again, hmm?"

And Katara is sobbing as Zuko leans forward and ties the necklace back around her, his warm hands at the back of her neck as he fastens the clasp, as she cries into his shoulder horrendously because she never thought she'd ever see this necklace again, and as she looks up at Zuko when he holds her damp face in his large hands, she never thought she'd ever be blessed enough to feel this way about anyone, to be blessed enough to have someone like him in her life, but she _does_, and she_ is_, and she can see tears glisten in his eyes too.

"But you _are_ worth it, Katara," Zuko whispers into her face as he touches his forehead against his, still holding her cheeks as she cries and cries. "You are the most deserving person on this earth. Your mother would_ honoured_ to call you her daughter, just as I am honoured to have even known you at all," his voice cracks, but he continues. "So don't you dare go leaving this on another shop table again, you hear me?_ You_ are the one who got yourself here, and _you_ are the one who kept yourself alive, who kept_ me_ alive, who_ brought me back_. You are more worthy of love than anyone...how could I ever leave a person like that? How could _you_ ever _not_ be my greatest reason to stay?"

Katara coils her arms around Zuko's neck and pulls him as close to her as possible, their chests crushed in a fierce embrace as they cry quietly into one another, as they breathe each other in again and again and again until the other's scent is the only thing either of them can register. When they finally pull away, minutes later, Katara's fingers weaved into Zuko's thick black hair, and he takes a deep breath. She is so overwhelmed and thankful and warm and drugged up on Zuko, but despite the fog of his misty golden eyes she sees clarity, only slightly, and can now finally be honest with herself, finally face her fear.

"I love you," Katara blurts out, the words leaving her lips like a breeze, because nothing feels more right to say, nothing feels more honest and pure, even though what she's saying is scaring the hell out of her. "I'm in love with you, Zuko."

He stares down at her for a long time, long enough to see the blush develop in her cheeks as she lets her hands slide down to his neck, long enough to watch her azure eyes dart up to him timidly, like she was actually expecting him to reject her. But this feeling in the middle of his chest, in the heart of his inner fire; it's a feeling that cannot be described or painted or sung or mimed out. It's perpetual and timeless, and at almost twenty years old, Zuko finally understands what his Uncle was talking about. He finally understands those stupid old haikus and wise words of wisdom.

This feeling that overcomes him is pure and utter peace, completely re-calibrating his entire conception of the world around him, of the girl before him as he places his hands firmly either side of her waist, leaning down low to let his warm breath fan over her parted mauve lips before touching them with his own pink ones softly, sweetly, pressing into her hard enough to know that this is most definitely real, but soft enough to show her that really, on the inside, this is all he had ever wanted in his entire life, even if he didn't know it.

When he pulls away from a flustered Katara, he flicks his nose with hers, his smirk soft, golden eyes glimmering down at her azure ones.

"Believe me, Sweetness, I love you more."

* * *

All her life, Katara never believed in the word perfect.

She just believed in making the best out of an impossibly bad situation, and in a way, this still applied to many areas of her life; save for one. Although it's uncomfortable and stuffy and squished, waking up to her nose smashed into Zuko's neck is actually a very desirable way of getting up indeed. Their legs are tangled and his arms wind around herback, and when she groans through her smirk and tries to roll away to let some air touch her skin that is burned by the friction of his, he growls in a very purr-like way and drags her back, his lips on her chin and his fingers dancing patterns on the back of her waist.

"Get off, Zuko," Katara laughed lightly, feeling him grin against her jaw. "Don't make me bloodbend you away from me!"

He pauses, smirking. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

Katara rolls over him so that her hair curtains one side of him, her knees either side of his waist and her forearms resting on either side of his head as she smiles down at him, the light of dawn flooding in through the dirty window, and she leans down to press the tip of her nose to his before kissing the corner of his mouth lazily, hearing him hum in approval below her. "Definitely a threat, Sparky."

* * *

Compared to this, it feels like he had been living his entire life wrong up until now.

Meditating proves to be a pointless task these past few months, because he can't concentrate on anything other than her or the massive grin that spreads over his features simply because she's _his _now. Katara actually tries her hardest to concentrate, she really does, but sooner or later, Zuko comes scurrying over to her quietly just to knock her onto her back and kiss her silent, kiss her till she's dizzy, kiss her until he's the only thing she can taste for hours, until she is hopelessly addicted to his warm palms that scour her body and his soft hums that vibrate through her mouth and into her throat.

Katara gets her own back eventually, plopping herself into the empty space in his sitting position every time Zuko tries hard to meditate for once, threading her fingers through his hair and pressing her mouth into his until he has no choice but to succumb to her and let her have his full attention as she scrapes her nails between the ridges of his abs, as she pulls on his bottom lip softly, as she pulls away just when Zuko starts to relish in the attention that he didn't know he was deprived of all these years.

"I really should have realized I loved you sooner," Zuko mused as he slid his hands up from her hips to her ribs, his lips pressing firmly into the crook of her neck, listening to Katara sigh in encouragement.

* * *

Around a year ago, they learned that perfection was a fragile thing, remember?

Just because they have each other now doesn't mean that this statement fades or slackens, it doesn't mean that they are an exception and they are untouchable to all things bad or wrong. There are still nights when Katara unravels, because there's a reason why bloodbending is a rare and unknown art form. It takes a toll not only on the body (creating scars on the waterbender that make everyone other than Zuko tense and whisper and wince), but on the mind - especially on the mind. It explains a lot, actually, considering how Hama turned out, after all.

But Katara still keeps her mouth shut and pretends she's sobbing her eyes out because she's afraid of what she is or what she's done or who she'll never be again, and she doesn't consider this a lie, because in some deep, dark part of her, she's sure some of those tears are spilled for those reasons too. But the main issue, the truly terrifying prospect she cannot yet allow herself to voice - that's the thing that gets her trembling with terror and anxiety, because it isn't something that can be controlled or beaten or overlooked, bloodbending master or not.

It's a two way thing, really, because Zuko has plenty of things to wake up in the middle of the night gasping and sweating in fear about as well. Despite being so universally different, they are one in the same - where Katara finds it harder to forgive herself on some days than others, Zuko does too. Because even though he's good now, he did bad things, said bad things, made bad decisions that he finds difficult to recall, even to this day. He knows that men are supposed to be thick and strong and tough as nails, but he unwinds, just like Katara, when he thinks of his tormented, hazy past that spit out the words _traitor_ and _weakling_ and _failure_ and _lucky to be born_.

But you don't have to be _together _together in order to be there for one another, because holding each other's hands and wiping each other's tears is a perpetual thing that needs no label or mark or words to justify it.

* * *

They should tell their friends, their families, that they have found love, with each other no less-

But then they are laughing through dinner and their spars at sunrise turn into a spar of a totally different sort, and at night they push their sleeping mats together just so they can hold each other whilst they sleep because, now, they _can,_ and even though a part of them is so terrified of this is all going to get messed up somehow, they can't ignore that this is the most content they have ever been and want to fight to keep it that way, want to listen to that part of their brains and hearts and souls that are telling them, '_Say you love him/her, say it now to make up for all the times you didn't_-'

"I love you," Zuko murmurs into her hair, obeying his selfish side, golden eyes twinkling as he feels her trails the tips of her fingers around the edges of the explosion of a scar on his chest, and he knows she is afraid of their dream-like reality shattering, too. "I wonder how long I've loved you for."

Katara shrugged, flipping some hair over her shoulder as she felt his hands moved up the rough skin of her arms. "I suppose true love is tying your soul mate to a tree."

Zuko frowns, Katara laughs. "Or rescuing them from pirates-"

He kisses her to shut her up, but she's still giggling into his mouth.

* * *

The future is a foreign, unknown, uncared for thing, and they try their best to keep it that way.

They don't want to think about if Katara can ever return or what happens when the Fire Nation whistles and Zuko has to go back running; so they do what they do best and move to the next town, the next motel, at each other's throats one minute and kissing that very place the next. They are too young yet too old, too naive yet too wise, too weak yet too strong to be apologetic for being happy, because happiness is too unpredictable to gamble on.

"You used up my soap!" Katara barked, throwing the empty container at him, but Zuko caught it easily without even sitting up. "Since when did you start using my fucking soap?! You're a _guy_-"

"Mine ran out!" Zuko snapped back in irritation, glaring through his ebony hair as he sat up from his mat to look at her with her hands on her hips as she stood outside the bathroom in only her wrappings. "What's the big deal? It's just soap! You sleep in my shirts all the time and I _never_ complain-"

"That's because I can just give your shirt back, but you can't just conjure up my _expensive,_ panda and fire lilly infused soap out of thin air and return it to me!" Katara growled, folding her arms over her chest, and by this action alone, Zuko is already so obviously distracted, making Katara growl even louder. "And if you don't look at my _eyes_ whilst I nag at you, I swear to Agni I will pull _yours_ out of your fucking head-"

Zuko shrugged, closing his eyes as he laid down again with his palms at the back of his head. "Like you said, I'm a guy, sue me-"

And this time, when Katara picks up the soap container and aims for his head, she doesn't miss.

* * *

**So ack, Zutara finally happened, huh? I can't believe I'm at this part in the story already...it's really crazy how time flies. FYI, Touched upon some things about bloodbending here that are worth remembering for later chapters. **

**I just want to take a moment to say thank you to each and every person who has read this story, favourited it, reviewed it, asked about it to me on tumblr or anything of the sort - like I seriously just was not expecting this much feedback, so thank you so much. ****I'm sorry for the late update, but things are getting busier now and I hope you all understand.**

**-Yin**


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